The True Half-Blood Prince
by lildrummerboi
Summary: While Magical Britain may be content to ignore warnings of Dark Lords the ICW takes such threats much more seriously. They dispatch an investigator to look into the claims, and what he finds will shake the bedrock of the Magical World.
1. I Save a Baby Whale

Contrary to popular belief the International Confederation of Wizards was not incompetent. To be able to monitor and govern the entirety of the wizarding world and the millions who inhabited it was no small order and thus, some things tended to fall through the pipes. Occasionally, issues arose that were either too minor for the Confederation to deal with, or were simply the product of an overworked bureaucracy. This was not one of those times.

About two months ago there was an incident in Britain, during the Triwizard Tournament two of the participants were teleported away from the final task. They were gone for nearly an hour and when they finally returned, one boy, a seventeen year old by the name of Cedric Diggory, was dead. As tragic and potentially preventable as his death was, what happened next was much more important. The other participant, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter, claimed that the dark wizard Voldemort, a man who has been believed to be dead for fourteen years, had killed him.

The response was…lackluster. The Prime Minister of magical Britain, Cornelius Fudge, immediately ignored Potters assertion, and began attempting to minimize the damage done to his administrations already ruined reputation. He discredited Potter, labeling him little more than a pampered brat wishing to maintain his diminishing fame and status. No investigation was launched, and the only man who could have leant any information, Barty Crouch Jr., was dead. Administered the kiss by Azkaban's dementors on Hogwarts' grounds.

Wizards, like all people, have an annoying habit of ignoring realities when it inconveniences them. Whether Potter is telling the truth or not, we haven't decided yet. But, that's where the ICW comes in. After the last war, the ICW decided that it could no longer have a "hands off" approach to potential world conquering assholes. The wizarding world was too small and too frail to allow itself to be fractured by civil wars. So, back in '86 the heads of the ICW took advantage of the growing world consciousness for dragon conservation, and slipped in a neat little addition to a bill-outlawing dragon poaching. The addition stated that the ICW held the authority to launch investigations into matters potentially dealing with megalomaniacs bent on world domination. Furthermore, it allowed for the investigations to be conducted by a neutral third party of the ICW's choosing. Should sufficient evidence be found that proved the existence of a new dark lord, the ICW held the right to intervene and put down the bastard with extreme prejudice.

So, when word about Potter's claim of the resurgence of Voldemort reached the ICW, wheels began to turn. While the Fudge administration as doing its best impersonation of an ostrich, the ICW was busy collecting information and resources and determining who would be sent to investigate. The burden fell to us here at the Department of Special Investigations or DSI, in the United States. As one of the most modern, well funded, and well equipped police agencies on the planet, I guess I can't be too surprised that we were the ones picked. I was, however, surprised when it was me, who was picked to lead the investigation.

Don't get me wrong, it was flattering, but I'm still pretty new at this. I'll only be twenty-four in a few weeks and I've only worked with the department for a few years. That's not to say that I'm not good at my job, because I am, it just that this was a pretty big deal and seemed like something better suited for a senior agent. Did that come off as arrogant or cocky? Well ok maybe it was a bit, but hey, I take pride in my work and I know that I'm good at it. When you're great at a lot of things, it's important to take pride in the things that you are. For me, it's soldiering and investigating. So what was I thinking? I was thinking that they weren't putting a whole lot of stock into what the kid was claiming, but weren't leaving it up to chance regardless.

That's how I found myself wonder the streets of Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey at about eight o'clock on August 2nd. My first step in the investigation was to interview Potter and get his view of the events that happened that night. With a little truth potion and maybe some memories this whole thing could be wrapped up nice and tight in a neat little bow and I could be stateside in time to catch the Yankees game the following night. At least that was what I kept telling myself. If I was honest, the odd sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach should have been the first indication that things were about to go cock-eyed very quickly.

However, I was tired, and cranky and ignored the feeling. I had been on the clock for nearly forty-eight hours prior to leaving the States and had the good fortune of having this dropped on me as I was preparing to go home for some much needed rest and relaxation. So my dumb ass ignored my gut feelings and plowed ahead without thinking. A rather bad habit given my past experiences but I'm only human. Well, ok half-human but still, you get the idea.

Privet Drive was a very boring and unassuming neighborhood. A product of the postwar boom that saw massive outward expansion with the influx of foreign investment and the sudden return of hundreds of thousands of soldiers who needed new homes for their new growing families. The results were neighborhoods like Privet Drive, massive suburban development products that were thrown together very quickly, and cheaply. In short, everything looked the godsdamned same.

I finally stopped when I saw the large number four on the house in front of me, I pulled out my notepad and double checked that this was the correct address before I walked up the extremely well kept, if slightly parched looking front lawn and up towards the door. As I crossed over onto the grass I was suddenly hit with a wave of extremely powerful protective magic. I stumbled slightly, caught completely unawares by the sensation as a warm buzz emanated across my skin. The feeling passed almost as quickly as it came though, I guessed that that meant I was deemed not to be a threat. I paused and glanced around suspiciously, there had been nothing in the reports I had been given about any sort of protective warding around Potter's residence. I filed it away as something to consider later and began walking again towards the door, but now my hand was sitting a little closer to my beltline, next to a small holster that held a tiny black pen. The feeling of foreboding came back and I was on edge.

I took a deep breath and squashed the feeling, trying to think a little more logically. The kid was something of a celebrity, and was bound to have some old enemies, especially now that he was seemingly trying to stir the pot and cause his government trouble. It made sense that his home was going to be more protected than initially thought. Do I seem slightly, read very, paranoid? It's because I am, people like me don't get passed the age of seventeen without being wary of anything seemingly out of the ordinary. Unfortunately where magic was concerned, out of the ordinary was annoyingly ordinary. Still, I kept my hand at my hip ad raised my fist to knock on the door.

I had been just about to knock when several things happened in very rapid succession. First, the skin on the back of my neck stood on end and goose pimples erupted down my arms. It was a natural reaction my body had when it realized that it was in danger. Then, an unnatural cold and fog descended on the neighborhood. It was out of nowhere and thoroughly unnatural for Britain in August to suddenly drop twenty degrees in temperature. Third, all at once, every streetlight in the entire neighborhood shut off at once and the sky was covered. It was as though someone had hit a kill switch and just turned off all of the light. Not even the glow of the moon was shining through. Then, I felt them. I was too far away at that point for any of the more drastic effects but you can feel the effects of dementors for up to five miles. It was an overwhelming sense of dread and desperation, as though all hope and happiness in the world had suddenly vanished. It was a feeling I was depressingly familiar with.

I turned on my heel and concentrated, reaching out and trying to feel where the feelings were originating. I didn't have to look too long before a sudden blast of magical energy erupted from a few blocks away from me and the sky was suddenly lit by a brilliant white light. I smiled broadly as I realized what it was, Given that Potter was the only registered magical in the area the source of light had to be him.

I took off at a dead sprint towards the source of the light, cutting through front lawns and backyards and hopping fencing in order to minimize the distance to the dementors. I hurtled myself over a large white fence and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I rounded the corner and saw them. Two large, floating, figures. Drabbed in flowing black cloaks with gray skeletal hands sticking out of the sleeves. A figure, which I assumed was Potter, was standing several yards further down the street, wand outstretched and a brilliant white, ethereal buck was positioned in front of him. There had been rumors that the kid could produce a patronus, it looked like those rumors were well founded. One of the dementors was bearing down on him but movement out of the corner of my eye caused me to shift my gaze. My eyes narrowed as I saw a second dementor floating towards a large, unmoving mass on the concrete.

I tried to ran towards the body with the intent of stopping the monster before it could do any more harm but I was stopped before I could take even a few more steps. The second my foot entered the street both dementors stopped what they were doing and turned to me. My breath left my body as a shaky breathe escaped my lips. There was a sudden whooshing sound in my ears as a series of visions played before my eyes. A tall, blonde haired boy telling me to give him my sword. A beautiful, blonde haired girl with shining grey eyes falling into a dark horrendous pit and large dark ominous doors. The scene shifts again, it was a another woman, long red hair and bright brown eyes, pleading with me as she bleeds from a horrendous wound at her chest. I hear screaming in my ears and I screw my eyes shut as tightly as I possibly can. With a shaky hand I managed to grasp the pen in my holster and pop the cap off the top. A stunning bronze sword takes the place in my hand where the pen used to be. Positioning the blade against the side of my left arm I slash, making a large painful gash. A warm liquid runs down my arm as the tortured yelling subsides and screaming pain takes its place.

My trick did the job. The visions cleared and the fog over my thoughts left. There are not many tricks to dealing with dementors when you don't have immediate access to wand and are as susceptible to their effects as I am. The best and safest is to consume chocolate. Why? I honestly couldn't tell you, I never bothered to learn but after my first run in with the foul creatures I made a note to keep a bar with me at all times. Except this time where I had left them, along with all of my other equipment in my car several blocks away. Because of course the one time I wasn't prepared for them they show their ugly mugs. As has been my life. The other method is the one I used. Inflecting enough pain ones person that they are able to snap themselves out of the effects of dementors is the oldest known technique to combat their effects. As should be obvious, given the amount of blood flowing down my arm and harshness of the wound, this was the less advisable of the two.

I turned my attention back towards the monsters that were now coming my way with considerable speed. Deciding my best course of action, which was really the only one I had considered, was to take the initiative. I charged. In three large strides I closed the distance between the closest dementor and myself. My right hand on the hilt of my blade held down and away on my right side with my left hand on the pommel. I ducked under the outstretched hand of the monster slashed diagonally upwards across my body. I caught it clean across what might have been its chest. A bright light erupted from the point my blade made contact with its skin and foul black smoke began pouring out of the wound.

I didn't hesitate and followed my momentum through from the previous strike with a horizontal slash across my midsection. Starting from the left side of my body and cutting in an east-west fashion I cut into the monstrosity a second time. A similar wound opened up on top of the first and more black smoke pour out of the creature. The dementor let out the most terrifying, blood-curdling screech I had ever heard. It grasped at where I had struck it, a disturbingly human motion, before turning on its proverbial heel and fleeing upwards into the night sky, screeching and crying the whole way.

The sudden disappearance of its comrade caused the second dementor to pause in its pursuit, giving me the opening I needed to close the distance and deal with it in a similar manner. I didn't have to though, because just as I was about to step off the remaining dementor was sent sprawling through the air as Potter's patronus rammed into the creatures back. I could barely make out Potter's shout of "Get it!" before the buck gave chase and slammed into the dementor once more. Recognizing a lost cause, the dementor turned where it was and flew off in the same direction as its companion.

An eerie calm fell over the street. The fog and cold lifted and the street lamps along the sidewalks suddenly came to life. The whooshing in my ears completely cleared, and was instead replaced with the panting and heavy breathing of Potter and myself. I idly noted that my shirt under my jacket was soaked with sweat and was sticking to my back. A warm summer breeze blew through the street and I closed my eyes and took in a few deep breaths trying to calm myself down. When I opened them I saw Potter staring at me. It was my first real look at the kid outside of the photos in his profile and I was rather unimpressed. He was rather average in height, roughly five foot six or so but seemed to be in the middle of a growth spurt so that may change relatively soon. He was pale, but no more so than your typical Anglo-Saxon. The only thing really noteworthy about his appearance was how thin he seemed. He was exactly malnourished but he was definitely smaller than someone his age and height should have been. His clothes didn't help much. They were old and ratty, and clearly belonged to someone who was much larger than he was because they hung off of his proportionally smaller frame like child in a bed sheet.

He kept glancing between me, the sword in my hand, as well as the large wound on my left arm. His mouth was working slightly as though he was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Luckily he was saved from trying to figure out what to say but a loud, pathetic whimper from over his shoulder. I felt myself relax slightly as we both remembered the figure prone on the street. Since he was making noise he clearly still had his soul. Whether or not he would retain any sort of permanent psychological damage was yet to be determined. Dementors have been considered some of the most dangerous creatures in the planet for a reason. Not only could they leave a person without his or her soul but the psychological and emotional damage dealt to a person after prolonged exposure could drive them to utter insanity.

I took a step toward the prone boy, who I could now make out in the light was roughly the size of a baby humpback, when Potter abruptly barred my path, his wand pointed directly at my chest.

"Who are you?" he said, his voice was quiet but assured. The tip of his wand glowing slightly with magic, prepared to answer the call of its master should the need arise. I slowly raised my hands in the air, wincing slightly as the effect of my self-mutilation was taking effect and with my sword still secured tightly in my right hand. I pointed with my left at said weapon.

"I am going to slowly put this away and reach into my pocket for my identification. Is that ok?" I spoke slowly and softly, trying to let my honesty flow into my words. Potter considered it for a moment and then nodded his wand never once leaving my chest. I slowly reached my left hand down into my holster and withdrew the cap to my pen. I put the cap on top of the weapon and stored it safely and securely back in its place, clasping the security strap over its top. Then, I raised my left hand back into the air again, and reached with my right into my jacket pocket. Potter tensed but relaxed slightly when I withdrew a black wallet. I opened it, letting my identification card, photo, and badge be seen clearly and openly.

"My name is Percy Jackson, I'm with the United States' Department of Special Investigations. I'm in England on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards investigating the events of last June. I was on my way to your home to interview you when I noticed the telltale signs of dementor activity. I came running here as quickly as I could." I nodded at Potter's wand and let a lopsided smile plant itself on my lips, "But I guess shouldn't have worried about it huh? You're pretty good with that patronus charm, not many fully-grown wizards have a shaped spell. It's impressive."

Potter shifted uncomfortably, clearly unaccustomed to praise. Relatable. His eyes then widened as he fully processed what I had said. "Does that mean you believe me?" he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, "Does that mean you're here to help us fight Voldemort?" His voice was excited and he was speaking fast. I didn't respond at first, instead I gestured to my hands, a silent request to put them down. He looked confused for a moment, and then sheepish as he realized he was still pointing his wand at me. He nodded and lowered it, and I gratefully lowered my own.

"I don't know if I believe you or not just yet, that's what I'm here to do. With your permission I was hoping to ask you questions about what happened and based off of what we discuss we can determine what can be done." The hope in his eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he scowled darkly, anger written clearly on his features.

"Of course you don't believe me." He said bitterly, "No one does" I sighed quietly,

"Look kid-Harry" I amended when it looked like he was about to interject, "look at it from their perspective for a second, you claim that one of the most dangerous men to live in the last several decades is seemingly back from the grave. It seems a little far fetched and more than a little worrying. This is something that has to be handled with care all right? There's a process. But-" I said before he could interrupt, "From what I've seen here tonight, it certainly looks like someone is trying to shut you up, and given what little I've seen of you here tonight, you don't strike me as the type to just say stuff that isn't true. So let's get out of here, could your buddy-"

"Cousin" he interjected hotly, "Just my cousin"

"Alright" I said slowly "then lets get your cousin back to your place and we can talk. I want to help you Harry but you need to hear me out and let me do my job. If you're telling the truth then we can start working towards something but until then my hands are tied by the powers that be."

Harry thought for a long moment. Biting his lip as he thought about what I had said. He finally nodded again and said,

"Ok. Let's get Dudley out of here and then we can talk." He paused for a moment and grim look came onto his face. "If my Aunt and Uncle let you anyways. There aren't exactly fond of magic."

"You let me worry about that" I smiled, "Now c'mon, let's get out of here." I walked over to the baby beluga and grabbed an arm and hoisted him up and over my shoulder rather effortlessly. I turned around and saw Harry gaping at me.

"What?" I asked confused. I turned around and looked to see if there was anything hiding behind me in the shadows, or coming up the street but when I didn't see anything I just turned back to Harry, thoroughly confused.

He clamped his mouth shut, and just said, "Nothing, don't worry about it."

I shrugged but ignored it. I turned and began walking back toward Potter's house as Harry went to put his wand back into his pants pocket. He stopped however when a voice called out,

"Don't put it away silly boy! What if there are more of them. Dementors! In Little Whinging! Oh, I am going to KILL Mundungus Fletcher! And who the devil are you?"

AN: To my readers old and new I hope you enjoyed my newest little pet project. This idea has been sitting in my brain for forever and when you have something like this taking up all your creative juices you, or at least I, literally could not concentrate on my other projects. I'm excited about it because I don't think anyone has really done what I'm trying to do here so I think ya'll will enjoy it. To my old readers who are patiently awaiting updates for Sentinel and The Sea I promise they are on their way! The last several months have been just so busy I barely have time to sleep between work and classes and my own research let alone time write. It didn't help that in Sentinel's case I hit a pretty absurd writers block that I've only just overcome. Regardless I hope you take this as a little peace offering and the promise that there is more to come. Thanks for the patience and lemme know what ya think!

Love,

LilDB


	2. Don't Tip The Pizza Guy

It me nearly five minutes of cajoling, and repeatedly flashing my badge to the old woman, whom I learned was Harry's neighbor Arabella Figg, before she finally believed I was who I said I was.

The walk back to Potter's house was a quiet one. To his credit, the kid didn't let his guard down for a moment, which was a moderately impressive if worrying skill for a fifteen year old to possess. That level of paranoia and alertness, even in the wake of immediate danger, wasn't something I usually outside of campers. I kept an eye out too, but I wasn't all that worried, dementors are dangerous, but ironically enough they're also cowards. If you manage to scare them off the first time they don't come back.

Freaking leeches. Here I was thinking, like an idiot, that being over the pond meant that I wouldn't have to watch over my shoulder every five minutes for monsters. I could practically hear the lecture in my ears. Everyone from Annabeth, to Chiron lecturing me on how we're never actually safe and there are enemies on every street corner and yadda yadda yaddda, blah blah blah.

That was essentially the running dialogue in my head as we walked up the steps to number 4. Potter and Figg had been talking on and off about…something. To be perfectly honest I was not paying attention. As you could probably tell. Hey, it's not my fault! Look I get it, Mr big hotshot government agent should be more disciplined blah blah blah and shouldn't allow his mind to wander on a mission. Yeah tell that to the most extreme case of ADHD ever. It's not my fault I can't focus too well. Ok maybe it is a little bit my fault, cause I forget my Adderall on the kitchen counter before I left New York but I mean I was in a hurry! These magical types are super stingy on their portkeys and if I was even a second late I would have had to wait even longer to get here and then Potter would have likely been a drooling mess on the pavement. You know what, in hindsight, leaving my medication on the counter saved a life! Ha! Suck it.

I was shaken from my musings when it finally dawned on me that Potter and Figg had stopped talking and were looking at me expectantly. Perhaps a more professional agent would have been able to cover their folly, passed off their empty-mindedness as worry for any new potential dangers. I was not that. Which is why I couldn't stop my mouth from blurting,

"Uh….What was that?" dammit.

"We're here.", Said Potter, looking annoyed. Or maybe it was slightly constipated, honestly it's interchangeable at that age. I would know. "You can put Dudley down.", he said. I looked over my shoulder at the still dazed and confused humpback. Huh I had completely forgotten about him. Weird. So I just shrugged him off my shoulder and let him down onto his unsteady feet slowly and carefully. I was going to let go of him but the way he swayed the second his feet hit concrete caused me to firmly latch onto his shoulder with my hand and steady him.

I knelt down slightly, a little concerned now. Dementors were nasty enough when you had already experienced one and knew what to expect, let alone when you could see it. To experience one first hand, and nearly get kissed on top of it, would be a horrifically traumatizing experience, made all the worse because the poor kid wouldn't have been able to see what was causing it. I looked at his face, specifically at his unfocused, and half-lidded eyes and swore quietly under my breathe.

"He needs some chocolate.", I said simply, passing him off to Potter as I did so. Of all the times I forget to bring my pack with me from the rental it had to be now didn't it? My life in a nutshell. "Potter, take him inside and get him settled. Then go and start packing your stuff."

That threw both him and Figg off.

"Am I…going somewhere?" he asked uncertainly, with something that was an interesting combination of hope and distrust on his face. I raised an eyebrow in turn.

"You were just ambushed by a pair of freaking dementors. Who in their right mind would keep you here where you're clearly a target? I would be pretty shit at my job if I was just like 'nah he's got this covered, clearly nobody wants this guy dead. Might as well call it a night and leave him here where he is obviously compromised.' Hell no, I'm moving you to a safe house near London for safe keeping until someone who knows better can figure out what to do with you."

"So are you saying you believe me?", he began, his voice getting a little excited again, "about Vold-", I cut him off.

"Like I said earlier man, I don't know what to believe until I've conducted my interview. What I do know though, is that someone wants you like, super dead. Wants you dead bad enough to send those monstrosities at you. As far as I'm concerned, even if you are lying about that Voldemort stuff, which I'm not saying you are, I wouldn't be doing my job if I just left you here on your own."

Potter seemed to think on that for a moment before he nodded, albeit he was reluctant. But before I could turn to go back to my car Figg started in on me.

"And just how can we be sure to trust you are who you say you are?",

I couldn't help myself, I groaned. I don't think it was appreciated. "Listen", I started, allowing the annoyance I was feeling creep into my voice. "The way I see it, you don't have much of a choice but to trust me. Potter is clearly not safe here and if you can't trust the ICW then who can you trust? Furthermore, if you don't believe me, ask Dumbledore, he knows who I am and can vouch for my identity."

I chose not to add that the old guy was going to be the opposite of happy that I was moving Potter without his permission. But at the same time, I just didn't care. I always did have a problem with authority figures and doing what I was told. Which looking back on was incredibly ironic given the whole, you know, law enforcement thing, but whatever.

Something to dwell on later.

I turned away from her and addressed Potter again, "I'll be back in ten minutes. Just do me a favor and try not to, you know, die or break anything between now and then." And before he could even respond I turned and was walking as briskly as I could down the block towards my car.

As I was walking I reached into my pocket and pulled out an old satellite phone. It was an innocuous cream color with a series of intricate and complicated runes and symbols splayed across its back in black ink. Since talking on a cell phone was like painting wearing a bright neon sign that read 'dear all monsters please come kill me', demigods had to use slightly more unconventional methods to communicate across distances. Or at least I did, especially since I rarely carried drachmas on me to make iris calls to anyone and even then, they're about as inconspicuous as an elephant in a glass house.

I flipped open the phone and pressed and held the pound sign for a moment until there was a dial tone. I then dialed three nines followed by three, seven, four, and then finally two, zero, zero, eight. I waited through a couple rings before there was a click and a voice on the other line. The voice was male, and had a distinct Brooklyn accent.

"Gino's Pizzeria, home 'a 'da real deal Brooklyn pie, how can I help ya's.", I rolled my eyes. Some dipstick had clearly watched too many spy movies or something when they were working out the division back in the day. It's honestly the only reasonable explanation for the absurd call sign and ring around the department makes us go through when we're checking in long distance. It has something to do magic and long distance communication being easily heard or some such nonsense I didn't really care for or understand. That was the crap that the magicals could worry about, all I knew was that whenever I was out of country, getting in touch with our tech crews in house was a pain in the ass. Here in jolly old England, the front for the department was a Brooklyn style pizzeria in London.

Instead of snarkily responding like I wanted to, instead I said, "Yeah, my name is Percy Jackson. I ordered from you guys a few hours ago and I'd like to speak to the manager. My last pie had a hair in it and I think I want a refund." Oh, would you like a translation? Well, put simply that little phrase identified who I was, that I was an agent, and that I needed to speak to the officer in charge because my op had gone pear shaped and I needed to keep the home offices appraised.

The guy on the other end didn't even hesitate, it was the mark of a real professional honestly. "Sucks to be you pal. Putting you through." Yup real professional.

There was a brief moment of silence before a woman's voice, low and authoritative, came over the speaker.

"Jackson. Report." Special agent Abigail Freeman said. Freeman was the agent in charge of all field operations in and around the United Kingdom. I reported to her, and she in turn relayed all of my findings and information back to button pushers in New York. Freeman was strong, iron willed, and easily one of the most determined people I had ever met. She also scared the unholy hell out of me. For good reason too. It's hard enough to become a field agent outside the States. You had to be the best in your given field and had to have a proven record. Then to ascend to head agent in charge of an entire field operation was something else entirely. Freeman was a hardass out of necessity, but she was still a hardass.

"Ma'am.", I started simply, "There's been a development in the Potter case.", When she didn't respond, I took that as my prompting to continue. "As I was making my towards Potter's residence I felt the presence of two dementors near my immediate vicinity. I changed course and immediately broke off to engage the dementors. With Potter being the only registered magical in the vicinity, and given the implications of his accusations, I felt it likely that he was the target of the monsters. I was proven correctly when I came across him trying to fend the pair off with a patronus charm. I dispatched one of the dementors and the other fled."

I paused momentarily to catch my breath and organize my scrambled thoughts slightly before continuing. I'm very good at almost every aspect of my job. Some would call it arrogance but I don't think it's arrogance when you have the skills and the know-how to back it up. However, despite my excellent field skills, I've never been particularly gifted at the more bureaucratic parts of the job. Specifically, I've never been all that good at explaining myself and the rationale behind the decisions I've made. I usually don't plan too far ahead, I just follow my gut. It's almost never steered me wrong and following my instincts has kept me and many others alive this long. However, a lot of the pencil pushers back home don't appreciate it when you tell them that you leveled a three story apartment complex on a hunch. Hey, they gave me hell for it but they looked pretty damn foolish and I looked pretty freaking awesome when it turned out that building was really a nesting ground for ghouls and my collapsing the building killed off the entire population.

Anyways, point being, I had to take a little longer to portray my thoughts to my bosses.

"Ma'am", I started again, "given the obvious breach in security, it is clear that Potter's safety here has been compromised. I request permission to move him to my personal safe house for the conduction of the interview as well as safe guarding until a more secure location can be acquired for him." I felt pretty proud of myself. I used all the fancy buzzwords that all of briefing slides liked to use to make things seem more complicated.

There was a moments hesitation on the other end before Freeman responded. "You think that someone is trying to shut Potter up? Keep him from spreading the word about Voldemort being back then?", I nodded, despite the fact that she couldn't actually see the action.

"I find the timing to be more than a little suspect ma'am. Beyond that it's not entirely a new circumstance over here. I did some fact checking on my way over here and it turns out that in the last war this Voldemort guy enlisted the help of dementors to help further his agenda. In my mind it certainly lends some credence to Potter's claims."

"I agree. Do it. I'll get in touch with Dumbledore and clear up the red tape. Get Potter interviewed and immediately forward me the recording and the copies for archival purposes."

"Yes Ma'am…", I said, and Freeman must have heard the question in my hesitation.

"What is it Jackosn?" she asked brusquely.

"Ma'am, am I going to get in trouble for killing that dementor? I somehow doubt that the Brits are gonna be too happy that one of their little torture monsters is dead, and I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to explain to them how I was even able to kill it, let alone why the hell an American agent is operating within their borders."

I was pretty thrown off when the only reply I got was in the form of a barked out chuckle. The kind of thing that was more fitting on a wolf than it was a human.

"Relax Jackson, nothing is gonna happen. Firstly, the British Ministry would have to admit that there were even dementors running loose in nomaj England, outside of the Ministry's jurisdiction and more importantly outside of their control. I know Fudge, and I know his people, they aren't going to raise any kind of a stink over this because if they do it admits their own incompetence. As to your other concern, as far as anyone else is concerned, you're in England looking into the estranged sister of your long lost father whom you heard was rumored to be living in Little Whinging. I shouldn't need to remind you that all of that information was in the briefing packet you received before coming here."

That last bit was said with an edge to it that made gulp. She was right, it probably had been in the packet but between my own desire to get out here quickly as well as my desire to get this whole thing over with I hadn't bothered to read the part of my cover. It hadn't seemed all that important when I figured I likely wouldn't be sticking around too long term. I had a feeling that was going to be changing soon though and with it, I would need a new cover story so really, my not knowing the whole thing probably wasn't all that relevant in the first place. I was pulled from my thoughts when Freeman started again,

"That being said, I will have some of our people look into exactly how and why those dementors were in the same place at the same time as you and Potter. As long as your in my field of operations that makes you my responsibility Potter and nobody, and I mean nobody, threatens the lives of my agents while I am consciously breathing. Rest assured Agent Jackson that I will personally get to the bottom of this. Report back to me after you've interviewed Potter." There was a click, and the line went dead.

I couldn't help the small smirk that came to my lips as I stared at the phone, so maybe Freeman was a hardass but like all agents, she cared for her own. The thought was enough to bring some small comfort to me as I my car. It was an innocuous little thing. I was never really one for cars, with the obvious exception of the Maserati 4200 GT, my god that machine is a work of art. Anyways, like I said, I've never really had an eye for cars but I knew enough to know that my car was one of maybe five parked on this street alone. It was good for blending, not so great for my self esteem. A guy's self worth is measured by the worth of the car he drives. At least that was what Leo always said.

I popped open the trunk and grabbed my emergency pack. It took a few moments but I found the stash of chocolate I had hidden away for dementors and other necrophages. I didn't understand the magic or the science behind it but for whatever reason chocolate was the ultimate cure for magic sickness. I also reached in and grabbed onto my service pistol, still clasped into its holster, and attached it to my belt. I then took out my wallet and slung my badge over my neck, the small chain was cool to the skin. In my experience with dealing with mortals, seeing the badge and gun displayed as visibly as possible put them at ease. Something about the legitimization of the proposed authority or some nonsense. I'm not sure about that crap but it works.

The walk back to number four was quicker than the walk from, mostly because I doubled my pace on my return trip. I hesitated only briefly at the door, wondering whether or not I should knock. But I'm not a patient person and I didn't want to have to spend the next five minutes trying to persuade whomever answered the door. So I just opened the door and walked into the small entrance hallway at number four.

I was immediately put ill at ease. Everything felt too perfect. Like the kind of fake perfect that appears in TV and movies where you see the house and you're just like, 'wow the person who lives there is just entirely too neat and orderly. They have to be a serial killer.' It was like that. The floor's looked waxed, the stairs vacuumed and the air stank of disinfectant. I took a few steps forward before turning into the small entrance to the living room. The only lights on in the entire house had been in the living room and upstairs where I assumed Harry was gathering his stuff.

Standing in the small frame to the living room, I got my first look at the Dursley family. Hells Bells. I had only been half kidding when I referred to the kid as a baby whale. But that would be nowhere near descriptive enough for the man I presumed was his father. The man must have been upwards of four hundred pounds and was damn near a perfect circle. Honestly it was kind of impressive just how fat the man was. His white button down, stained with what looked like that nights dinner, was bursting at the buttons. The cuffs of his sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, were straining so much against his considerable girth that I could almost hear the fabric stretching and crying out. He was sitting in a plush looking armchair, facing his son. He had turned when he heard the door and was halfway through what looked like an attempt to propel himself out of the chair when he turned his beady eyes on Percy.

"Who the ruddy hell are you?", the man boomed, his voice low and face turning purple in sudden rage. "What the hell are you doing in my home, what give you the right to just waltz in like you own the place? Eh? Get out of my house right now before I-"

"Vernon!" said his wife, I thought so anyways, rather shrilly in warning. Both me and older and uglier Violet Beauregarde turned to address the frail, horse-faced woman. Never in my life had I seen such a contradiction of physical human proportions in one place. Where as Vernon Dursley was large enough to fill a room. The woman, who had to be Petunia, was small enough to get lost in a broom closet along with the coat hangers. She was the smallest and most hollow looking woman I had ever seen. She was shivering and looking between the gun at my hip and the badge on my chest. Her boney arms were clenched around the large shoulders of her son, who was shaking, pale as death, and covered head to toe in blankets.

Vernon followed her gaze, and his beady bug eyes latched onto the gun and badge as well. The purple in his cheeks shrank slightly only to be replaced with a pale whiteness. He looked outside desperately, as though expecting to see an armada of tanks and helicopters prepared to blow him and his family to kingdom come. When he spoke next his voice was calmer, but with a lilt of shaky fear in it as well.

"Ahem, M-Mr. Officer, what can I be doing for you this evening." I couldn't help but feel my eyebrow raise slightly as I fought off a frown. This man was nothing more than a bully. Unbidden, memories of card tables, and cigar smoke and bean dip filled my senses and I had to suppress the build up of anger before I did something stupid. I may have hated bullies but the man hadn't done anything devious yet besides rightly demand why a strange man was barging into his home uninvited and unannounced.

Uncrossing my arms I tapped at the shielded badge on chest.

"I'm special agent Percy Jackson, United States Department of Special Investigations. I was in the neighborhood to question your nephew, Harry Potter, about the events that took place at his school last June. However- ", Before I could even get another word out Vernon Dursley was out of his chair and the purple hue had returned.

"You're one of them then are you!", it was a statement more than a question, "One of those no good ruddy freaks! Get out! Get out of my house right this instance! I will not have your abnormalities tarnishing my home and my family get out before I call the REAL authorities and then you'll be sorry!" The man was working himself into a frenzy. I managed to maintain a somewhat level head though and as calmly and smoothly as I could, I popped the leather strap off the handle of my pistol and gently laid my hand on its grip with my other hand coming to rest on my hip.

That did the trick well enough. The man's mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he paled considerably. His wife, if it was even possible, seemed to get even smaller and started shaking as badly as her son, who was still not even looking at him. Ignoring the larger of the two monstrosities for a minute, I reached into my coat pocket to grab at the emergency kit. I fumbled around in it for a second before I found the chocolate bar. Pulling it out I tossed it gently to the woman. Not expecting the sudden object, it hit her in the chest and startled her, as it fell into her lap. I nodded at the shaking kid and said,

"Give that him, he's been around a dementor. Which I would have told you about had you let me finish.", I glared at the larger man who flinched and backed away, falling heavily into the chair. I turned back to Petunia, "It's just a regular old chocolate bar. Got it at the gas station down the road. A few bites of that and he'll be back to normal in no time. If you don't, it's likely that he'll go insane."

However Petunia didn't look convinced and Vernon shakily said, "A-and why should we b-believe anything you tell us. Y-you're one of those lot! You did t-this to my son!" I had to give the man credit, he could rally quickly and get mad faster than most mortals I've met. But what patience I had was evaporating quickly.

"Sit back down and shut the hell up before I do something you'll regret!" my statement was punctuated with a slight pull at the pistol. Seeing him shut down, as well as nearly piss himself, I put the pistol back and continued. "As I was going to say, if you had let me finish. I'm not a wizard, I'm not a squib, and I am in no way related to the British magical community. I am here on behalf of the International Wizarding Confederation as a neutral agent to look into the events of last June that surrounded your nephew. I'm not with them, and quite frankly I don't want to be here in your home anymore than you want me here. So shut up, feed your kid the damn chocolate, and within the next ten minutes both me and Mr. Potter will be gone and out of your hair."

That seemed to do the trick as quickly Petunia unwrapped the candy bar and shoved it into her sons mouth. He seemed to choke for a second at the sudden action before his brain figured out what was happening and he began to chew. Within moments a rosy peach color returned to his cheeks and his eyes lost their vacant expression. Then a few moments later he stopped shaking altogether.

I nodded in satisfaction before turning and walking out the room and up the stairs. I assumed the room with the lights on would be Potter's room. My guess was proven correct when I opened the door to reveal the most defeated looking kid I had ever seen, glumly putting shirts into a massive trunk. I didn't need to announce my presence, his owl did that for me. Squawking and barking up a storm the moment I opened the door. She was banging against her cage and screeching something awful. Potter was quickly at her side trying to soothe her. After a few moments of stroking her white plumes he managed to calm her down slightly and he turned to glare at me suspiciously.

"Hedwig has never acted that way around anyone before.", I laughed, self consciously, and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Sorry about that, didn't realize you had an owl otherwise I would have warned you. They tend not to like me all that much."

Potter look at me like I had grown a second head, "Why?" he asked, rather incredulous. I shrugged noncommittally as my answer and he seemed to understand that was all I was willing to say on the matter.

"So you gonna tell me why it looks like someone just killed your dog." For whatever reason he seemed to tense up at that, and I filed that away as something to look into later, before he responded. His voice took on the air of someone on their walk towards the hangman's noose.

"I got expelled from Hogwarts" he said simply.

I just raised my eyebrows in response and said. "Well, I think I can help you out with that."

 _A/N Whaddup people. Sorry about taking so long, it happens though. Just wanted to address some things. Firstly, I've been told by a couple people that they weren't really fond of the first person perspective because it was bland and didn't feel like Percy. I'm sorry you felt that way but hopefully you feel some more life in it this chapter. I agreed with your criticism and did my best to address it. On the topic of pairings, I'm not sure if I'm going to do a pairing or not as it's not super important to the greater plot as of right now. I'm a fan of more nontraditional stuff though so if there is a pairing expect it to be with someone you've not really seen done much or at all. Thanks for the reviews, patience and love. Hope all of you are having an excellent Memorial Day and hope you enjoyed the chapter. The best is yet to come!_

 _Love,_

 _LilDB_


	3. A Very Long Night

The ride from Harry's relatives to my hotel in London had been a quiet one. The kid had been distracted, and hadn't seemed all that keen on conversation so I just let him sit and think quietly to himself. After all, I had my own thoughts that I was trying to process. The longer I was around the kid, the more I was beginning to believe him. If for no other reason than people were trying to shut him up. Your enemies didn't try to silence you if you weren't saying something they didn't want to hear. And that was certainly what the Ministry had tried to do tonight; silence Potter.

That was a can of worms in and of itself though. If the ministry was trying to silence the kid, then did they believe him? Did someone high up in the British ministry know that Potter was telling the truth and was attempting to take him before it was too late? Or was it simple fear? I know what Potter's accusations mean to the country, how the man he claimed was alive had ravaged the landscape, tore whole families apart, and terrorized and entire continent for nearly a decade. I can understand why the people in power wouldn't want Potter saying shit.

That didn't make it right.

There were simply too many questions and I didn't have any answers. What I knew for certain though, was regardless of whether or not this Lord Whatever was actually alive or not, I would be sticking around. Call it a hero complex. Call it a justifiable distaste for established authority. Call it whatever the hell you want, at the end of the day someone had tried to kill a fourteen year old in one of the most brutal and horrific ways imaginable. I was not about to sit back and simply let something like that happen while I could do something about it. I was going to stay in England long enough to see the kid got some justice for the wrongs committed against him. I knew what it was like to never have a guy in your corner, to have the literal weight of the world rest solely on your shoulders with no ine next to you to ease the burden. I'd been there and I wasn't going to let another kid go through it alone if I could help it.

There was more though. It was little more than a feeling in my gut. That familiar tightening, like when the teacher comes around to collect that assignment that you could have sworn wasn't due for another week. There was something about Harry Potter that hit me in an all too familiar way. Like with his accusation about the bad guy coming back to life, there were too many telltale signs that Potter was more than just some kid with some rotten luck. I needed to give Rachel a call, if anyone would be able to confirm or deny my suspicions, it would probably be her.

It took about forty-five minutes to get from Surrey to my hotel in downtown London. I was in the non-magical part of the city, far away from any magicals. The best place to hide from a wizard, in my experience, is to simply live amongst the mortals. All in all, not that complex of a concept, yet most of the magicals I'd dealt with had a difficult time grasping it.

"It's a bit…empty." Potter observed as we entered my suite "But it's a nice enough view I suppose". The room was on the seventh floor of a high rise overlooking the Thames. It was normally a very costly room to rent, a number high enough that, after looking at the listings made my skin crawl, but the ICW was always willing to shell out the cash for some of its more…. discrete work.

"Yeah sorry about that." I said as I laid his trunk down next to the large couch in the living room. It was one of only five articles of furniture in the entire suite, the other being a table with two chairs, and a small a bed in the bedroom down the hall. "Truth be told I wasn't even planning on staying here. My plan was to interview you at your relatives. But since they were, you know, assholes…" I let the statement just hang for a minute as Potter stood there rather awkwardly. It was silent for a moment, then I cleared my throat and broke the uncomfortable silence again, "Anyways. Might as well get down to business here right? Why don't you have a seat at the table, I'm going to gather a few things and then we can all of this crap over and done with right?" Potter nodded, a little too eagerly in my opinion but then again, it was understandable. If I had gone months of being called a liar and a fake among other meaner things, I would be excited for a chance to prove myself as well. It was another tick in a growing list of reasons why I was sure I would having an extended stay here in jolly ol' England.

I left the room as Potter took a seat at the table. I had deposited my carrying bag in the bedroom after we had come in the hotel. Policy was that interview suspects weren't even allowed to see the serums and equipment until after the interview had been conducted. It was all a little annoying but I could certainly understand the reasoning behind it all. Reaching into the bag, I reached out inside and willed my potions sack into my hand. The bag was standard issue to all field operatives in the department, and came with an impressive array of runes and charms to make it the greatest all-purpose bag on the planet. The runic arrays on its side allowed the user, even if the user couldn't use magic, to shrink or expand the bag as the user saw fit. The bag was also coded to his blood so only he could get in and out of it. The inside had been charmed to be what amounted to a small pocket dimension, where he stored most of his non-combat related equipment as well as all of his forensics equipment. While he had a suitcase in his car that was charmed on the inside to be an office and laboratory, this small backpack had all of the necessary equipment to conduct his interview with Potter.

I pulled two vials out of the potions sack. The first, was a calming draught. I would administer it first to Potter to relax him, which would make him that much more receptive to the powers of the second potion Percy had; veriteserum. This was the single most important tool in wizarding law enforcement. When consumed, the user was magically compelled to only speak the truth and admit honestly to any question posed to them. While there had been plenty of debate over the years in regard to the legality as well as the morality of forcing people to admit to their faults, the legal system had come up with a fair methodology. Veriteserum could be administered only by consent of the accused party. Failure to gain this consent meant that any admissions made while under the potion would be admissible in a court of law, at least that was how it worked stateside. I wasn't too sure how the law worked over here and to be honest, I didn't really care. American supernatural law mirrored the ICW and so that was the procedure that I was going to follow and the laws I would adhere to.

Slipping the potions into my pocket, I gathered the next items on my list. A large black digital camera, and a tripod. Finally I gathered a pen, and a pad of paper and returned to the main room of the small apartment, where Potter was sitting patiently at the table.

"Is that a camera?" he asked incredulously, as he watched me set the tripod up so that the camera would be facing Potter directly, over my right shoulder.

"Yup" I responded easily,

He was silent for a second and then asked, "Why do you have a camera?" I looked at him, and I felt my face contort into a look of confusion.

"Well generally camera's are pretty useful for, you know, recording things. So I think it should be kinda obvious ya know?" I thought it was pretty obvious but he clearly didn't understand so I explained. "Well I don't know what they do here, but back home we have to have a recording of all interviews to make sure that everything was done correctly. It's to protect not only the people being interviewed but the ones doing the interviewing as well. You know, in case someone snaps and tries to kill someone, there's a record of it. There's also memories too but those are usually a last resort." I explained. Potter still looked confused.

"But I thought that magic made it so that we couldn't use technology. At least, that's how my friend explained it. And she's something of a genius." I couldn't help the snort that came out of me.

"Dude, how do you think your radio works? People figured out how to make magic work with tech like thirty years ago or something. I'm not sure, my history isn't that great but I know its been a while. Don't you guys have TV or anything over here?" I asked,

He shrugged, "My friend Ron's family has an old wireless that they listen to." I had no idea what a wireless was, freaking cultural slang differences were obnoxious as hell, but I pretended to understand.

"Well how did you think that worked?"

"Magic" he said simply. I rolled my eyes, but smiled. He was a sassy little shit and I could always respect that.

I ignored him as I finished setting up the camera. As I was putting the pen and paper down on the table I started talking, if for nothing else than to fill the empty void. I hated silence, it drove me nuts.

"Normally, we'd have to get your guardians signature of approval for what we're about to do, but luckily for you, we found a bit of a loophole in wizarding law." At his look, I explained, "Well technically, because there was never an investigation launched into your name coming out of the Goblet of Fire last October, the British government unintentionally recognized your emancipation. Legally speaking, in the eyes of the law and within the realms of what we're trying to do here, you're a legal adult."

His mouth dropped open in shock a little, clearly he hadn't considered this possibility before and I could practically see him vibrate with excitement as he asked, "So does this mean I could do magic outside of school?" I shrugged. To be honest, I didn't see any problem but his government on the other hand, not to mention his teachers among others would probably have other things to say in that regard.

I told him as much but when he frowned I added, "But, this should help you out of your little legal situation with the dementors. As far as anyone will be able to tell, you didn't actually perform any underage magic because the Ministry had already legitimized your emancipation. They can't unclaim what's already happened, not here anyway so that clears up one problem. They'll probably try and charge you with performing magic in front of a nomaj but since your cousin has known about magic for at least a while I'm guessing, there will be nothing on that front either."

Potter was silent for a moment, just looking down at his hands on the table and not saying anything. Then, after about minute, he asked, "Why are you telling me all of this? Why help me at all? You could just get this interview over with and leave. It's clear that you don't want to be here. You said so yourself, so why help me?"

"I don't do what I do for a living because it pays well." I said dryly. "Because it doesn't. The pay is pretty shit actually. I live in New York and can barely afford an apartment. But that's besides the point. I do what I do because I genuinely believe in helping people Potter. I told you before, I would be bad at my job if I left you someplace where you were very clearly unsafe. I've always believed that those with the power and ability to act; to bring about powerful and positive change in the world, should." I finished with the camera and was looking at the kid squarely now, "I have the power to do great things Potter, which means that it's my responsibility to use that power for good. That's why I'm helping you, because it's the right thing to do. Because helping people who need helping is what a good human being does. That's the way I was raised and that's what I believe."

Potter was silent again but nodded slowly. When he looked up though, the desperation and fear that had been there previously had been replaced. His shoulders had relaxed, and the tension in his face had ceased slightly. It was clear that my words, had had their intended impact. And yeah, so maybe I stole part of my speech from Spider-man. So what, the man was the greatest super hero ever, don't come at me with that Batman crap. Spider-man is my boy and I gotta represent.

I shook my head to try and keep myself on track. "Right, anyways, you ready to get started then?" He just nodded, and gulped slightly. I tried to give him my most relaxing smile, "It's completely painless. Easiest thing you'll do all year in fact. Here," I put down the calming draught in front of him. "Drink this first, it'll steady your nerves a little." As he hesitantly nodded and drank the vial, I switched on the camera and said, "This is Special Agent Perseus Jackson, the date is July 8th, 2015. This is an interview with Harry James Potter, age 14. Mr. Potter is an emancipated adult in the eyes of the British Ministry of Magic. Mr. Potter, do you consent to this interview, yes or no?"

"Erm yes?"

"Do you consent to ingesting Veriteserum for the purpose of this interview? Knowing that the content of this interview will only be witnessed by myself and officials of the Department of International Magical Investigations of the International Confederation of Wizards?"

"I guess so…"

"Please state your answer in the form of yes or no, Mr. Potter"

"Yes…I consent to taking the potion."

"I will now administer the potion." I raised the vial up in front of the camera and positioned the label so that the information on the vial would be clearly visible to the recording. Then I turned the vial again so that the clear looking liquid was visible in the vial. I did this as another measure of ensuring to the council the authenticity of the recording and my own work. I then pulled the stopper off the top of the vial and motioned for Potter to open his mouth. I administered three drops on the tip of his tongue. I then walked back to the camera and zoomed the focus in on Potter's face, specifically his now rather unfocused eyes.

"What is your full name?"

"Harry James Potter"

"When were you born?"

"July 31st, 2000"

"Where is your home"

"Hogwarts" That caused me to pause slightly. It wasn't the answer I was suspecting, but then again, I guess that it wasn't all too surprising given the state of him non-magical family.

"What is the name of the girl you have a crush on?"

"Cho Chang." The answer was immediate, and so was the shocked look on his face. The boy reddened immensely and I couldn't help the smirk from my face or keep the chuckle out of my voice.

"Let it be noted that the Potion is effective and working as it should" I ignored Potter's look of outrage and continued. "Mr. Potter, What happened on the night of June 5, 2015." I wish I could say that Potter didn't tell me anything. I wish I could say that Potter told me that everything that happened that night had been a mistake, that a boy had died as a tragic accident while participating in a deadly tournament. That he himself, was merely lying to maintain his own fame and publicity. Call it callous and shallow but it would have been a better and safer alternative to the painful truth of what Potter actually told me.

But what came out of his mouth, went against all wishes for a peaceful solution to this problem. He told me in very vivid detail how he and the boy Cedric Diggory had reached the Tri-Wizard Cup at the same time. How they agreed to take it together, as a symbol for their school. He told me how the boy had been viciously cut down not a minute later and how he'd been forced to take part in a dark ritual that restored the body to the Dark Lord calling himself Voldemort. He went to tell me about how the graveyard they'd been in had become swarmed with the Dark Lord's followers. I asked him for whatever names he could remember. In all, he recited nearly twenty names. That was one of the more fascinating aspects of the truth potion. It activated parts of your brain and memory that you would normally not have access to. While consciously, Potter could not have told me the names of more than two or maybe three of the men and woman in the graveyard that night. His subconscious mind was able to recall much more, putting names to faces that he had only associated with in passing alone.

As all of this was being recited, I was quickly writing down all I could on my notepad. I wrote the details of the ritual, it might provide glimpses into the kind of strength the new body possessed, I wrote down the names of the Death Eaters, the followers of the Dark Lord. I even wrote down the name of the graveyard they were in. I would need to pay it a visit in the not too distant future.

It took two hours, as well as two additional doses of the truth serum to get all of the information that I needed. I stretched my arms over the top of my head, enjoying the many small pops and cracks as I did so. Potter followed suit, albeit without the stretching. I looked him square in the eye as I stood.

"I'll be honest Potter. I'm exactly thrilled about this."

"Yeah, because this has been a right laugh for me."

I chuckled, couldn't help myself, "You're right, you're right sorry bud." Then I got serious, "Listen, I have to go report this, all of this. Some serious shit is likely to come down and I honestly don't know what the play is going to be. I just want to be the first to say though, that I'm sorry for doubting you. I'm sorry that the world has been doubting, but more than all of that, I'm sorry that any of this has to be happening in the first place."

His eyes lost some of their edge, and his shoulders slumped as the fourteen year old seemingly aged a decade in front of me. Man did I know what that was like, "It's ok." He said softly, "For what it's worth, I appreciate it. It's just nice to finally be taken seriously by somebody for a change. This has so far been one of the worst summers of my life. Between not hearing anything at all about what's going with Voldemort, and then the dementors…" he paused as he sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, "I guess it's just nice to know that someone is actually doing something as opposed to…"

"Sitting on their ass's with their thumbs in their mouth?" I supplied.

Potter smirked, "Not quite what I was looking for but it'll work I suppose. Really though, thank you, you've done more for me in the last six hours than my friends have done all summer." He was frowning now, and I could tell that he was upset. But hell, I didn't know his friends; I didn't even know their names. So I just opted to put, what I hoped, was a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I don't know them or what they have or have not done. But whatever is going on, I can tell you that it likely hasn't been that way by design." He continued to stare down at his shoes in silence. Not being entirely too sure what to say, I looked down at my watch and groaned, it was already ten o'clock. This was going to be a very long night. "Alright, I have to get going now. It's going to be a long night." I reached over by the couch and tossed him a remote to the TV, "and I don't think I'm going to get back until tomorrow at some point. Do me a favor and don't go anywhere. Watch TV, order room service, jack off." He spluttered at that one "I don't really care, just enjoy yourself and relax a bit."

"Do you mind if I do my homework?" he asked, looking somewhat hopeful. That threw me off, which was happening with an obnoxious frequency lately.

"Homework? Does your school seriously give you summer work to do?" He just nodded his head and looked at me like I was slightly crazed. I shuddered. "That's not right bro." He seemed to enjoy the response as his laughter followed me out the door.

BREAK

The Pizzeria was empty when I walked in. It was something of a strange sensation to me, back home; Pizza shops were open late and were normally busy late. Maybe the Brits just didn't like their pies? If that was the case then I really didn't think I'd like to be here any longer than I absolutely had to. I approached the front desk, no one was sitting there so I called out into the back of the shop. About two minutes later, a bored looking man in his early twenties sauntered around to look at me. And in an annoyingly familiar voice said,

"Sorry mate, we're closed for the evening." I felt my eye twitch as I recognized the asshole from the phone call earlier that night.

"Just shut up and grab Freeman. I'm Agent Jackson, I called earlier." Now it was the assholes turn to develop a twitch. His eyes darted around the empty restaurant and briefly scanned the street outside before he moved. In the blink of an eye he had grabbed the front of my shirt and I felt a wand poke into my neck.

"Fucking rookies…" he growled, the trace of the British accent he had seconds ago having dissolved completely, "Why the hell would you say that shit out in the open? You know who might be listening? You want to just paint a neon ass sign over the door telling people who we are and what we're doing here? By magic you're a special brand of stupid aren't you."

Well now I was mad, "Take your wand off my neck and let go of me or I'm going to hurt you." I said, my voice was low and dangerous. I could tell it had an effect on him as he started to sweat a little and his pupils dilated somewhat, a base reaction to someone much stronger than him. Natural instincts were beginning to turn on telling him that I was not your average run of the mill agent and he likely couldn't bully me around. Before either of us could say anything though, we were forcefully blown apart from each other. I staggered and fell backwards, luckily falling right into a booth right behind me. Asshole wasn't so lucky, as he was thrown into the wall behind the counter and landed on his ass. Before either of us could react to what happened a familiar voice shouted. "Jackson, my office. Now!" I scrambled to my feet and bustled behind the counter

Yup, tonight was going to be a very long night.

 _AN: Wassup! This got…a lot more support than I was expecting. That being said I'm sorry about the long wait for chapter three, obviously I've been a little busy with trying make sure that Our Protector was brought up to speed as I completely reworked the damn thing. That being said I'm happy to see so many people liked this little brain child of mine. I've had a lot of fun with it so far and have some fun ideas to go places with it that I have't really seen done especially with this particular crossover. So if you've been looking for a different PJO/HP story hopefully you like this one. That being said, let me know what ya'll think and have an awesome day. Thanks for the love and support!_

 _Love,_

 _LilDB_


	4. Wow, You Guys Are Bad at This

I've been grilled by superiors before. Hell, given my childhood and early schooldays, I spent probably ninety percent of life trying to explain or justify my actions t people more important to me. So I can say seriously, that I am something of an expert on getting interrogated. Or at least that was what I had thought. Turns out, that I not only did I not write the book on getting grilled, before tonight, I hadn't even started the first damn chapter.

After spending an hour talking to Freeman, showing her the recording, and quintuple checking to make sure I had done everything right, we took a portkey to Lichtenstein, the current headquarters for the leadership of the ICW. I spent the next 6 hours getting my ass raked raw by every representative, diplomat, head of state, and even the odd janitor over what I had discovered. Of course all of this was kept thoroughly under wraps and the representatives from the British delegation weren't notified in the slightest.

It was nearly five in the morning before I was dismissed so that the designated committee could begin discussing what should be done. I wasn't too offended by that, I'm not much of a big picture guy. I'd had my taste for real leadership and authority in the past, I like to think that I did pretty damn well, but it was also an experience that I had no desire to attempt to replicate either. However, my dismissal by the rich and powerful did not mean that I could go home and sleep. Almost as soon as I had been dismissed, I had been immediately cornered again, this time by Albus Dumbledore. He politely requested, read ordered, my presence to his office at Hogwarts.

Well, when the Supreme Mugwump asks you for a private meeting in his personal office, you're not exactly going to say no. So after three cups of coffee, and some of the good man's candy, I spent another three hours talking with the leader of the magical world.

I learned some real interesting shit.

For instance, apparently the man had led a quasi-guerilla organization during Voldemort's last uprising.

Apparently they hadn't really done a good a job.

It had been apparent for a number of months that Dumbledore was a firm believer in Potter, well before I had begun my own investigation. What was not apparent was that almost immediately after the night of Voldemort's supposed resurrection, the good professor had reassembled the aforementioned guerilla organization and had begun planning. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that Dumbledore spent the better part of the morning trying to recruit me for his group. And I gotta admit, I was tempted. It would give me an important in into whatever was going on, would provide me with important and much needed resources, as well as a base of people to fall back on should things really hit the fan. There was only one slight hang-up though.

I hadn't actually been told I was staying in England.

My orders prior to coming over here were to simply look into the rumors surrounding Potter's accusation and report back to the ICW. I don't think anybody had actually expected what Potter to be saying was true, and so I didn't have any actual orders about what was going to happen next. Aside form, you know, wait and see what the Confederation decides.

But I was never really the kind of guy to wait around. And more importantly, I don't like bullies. Everything that I had seen and studied about this side of the planet told me that the wizarding world was full of them. There were simply too many people who thought that just because they could use magic, it automatically made them superior to everyone else. It had been like that back home too, at least before the war. Then there was Potter, a seemingly good kid caught in a real crappy situation.

I knew what that was like, I could sympathize. Mostly because I knew that no matter what happened, the kid was going to be a target. He needed some serious help, someone to help steer him in the right direction. He wouldn't be getting that from Dumbledore. He respected the man for what he had accomplished and all he had done, but something about the way he had been treating this whole Voldemort situation did not sit well with me.

So I decided that it would better to ask for forgiveness from superiors rather than permission. After all, who the hell would they be to tell me I was wrong to say no to the leader of the ICW? I agreed to Dumbledore's request, and after a brief pit stop at my apartment to shower, change my clothes and update Potter and the general idea of what was going on, I departed once again. Before I had left, Dumbledore had handed me note with the address of his organization's meeting location. "Order of the Phoenix" was kind of a dumb name in my opinion, not to mention a little self indulgent given Dumbledore's pet, but I guess I really wasn't in a position to cast judgment. I wonder how Mrs. O'Leary is doing?

Anyway, this was all just a very long winded way of explaining how I ended up in a small little kitchen, in the most stereotypically bad guy house of all time, crammed between an accused serial killer and a woman who looked like she just left a Nirvana concert. People were chatting with one another as we waited for Dumbledore to arrive, and every once in a while I would catch someone staring at me out of the corner of my eye. My guess was that this group had been together long enough, and was personable enough to know when there was a new guy around. That wasn't to say that they weren't nice though. There was this little round woman scurrying around the kitchen who placed the single largest, and most fantastic smelling breakfast in front of me. I thanked her profusely and introduced myself, she smiled warmly, the kind of smile that only mothers have and told me she was Molly Weasley. She introduced her two sons, Charlie and Bill, as well as her Husband Arthur.

When I told her my name however, she seemed to jump a little, and looked almost like she was going to break down right then and there. She all but ran away at the first opportunity, leaving me with my breakfast, feeling equal parts confused, and like an asshole. The man next to me, who I recognized as Sirius Black, famed mass murderer of 12 no maj back in the late '80s, laughed and patted me on the back.

"Don't pay her any mind lad, it's nothing you did." I did my best not let the fact that I was confused over how and why the man next to me was even here, when he was supposed to be Voldemort's right hand show on my face.

"Then what was that all about? She looked like I killed her dog or something." The answer came not from Sirius, but rather from across the table. I think it was the one Molly had introduced as Bill, he had longer hair of the two red-headed men at the table, and an earing of some kind of bone in one ear.

"It's our brother. His name's Percy too and well…things between him and mum have been…"

"Utter dragon shite." Finished the man next to him, who had to have been Charlie.

Bill laughed and nodded, saying, "He works for the ministry, same as dad right? 'Cept he works for the Minister's office and the Minister has been looking for a reason to get dad sacked for ages now. So when he get's this great new job he comes home-"

"Like the most pompous arsehole you've ever seen" interjects Charlie

"Bill nods again, "And he and dad get into it over their work. Long and the short of it was that Percy moved out and isn't speaking to anyone from the family. Mum is right torn up about it. She didn't mean anything to you, it's just-"

"She can't help it, I get it." I agreed, "And for what it's worth I'm sorry for all of that. Seems like a pretty bad situation.

Charlie just shrugged, "Percy's always had his head up his own arse, he'll come 'round eventually. Nothing to do about it now though."

Ijust nodded reluctantly, before my attention was demanded by the woman next him. Grabbing hold of my arm she twisted him around to face her. She was pretty, all things considered, with a soft, heart-shaped face and elegant features. But what was really eye catching was the mess of shocking pink hair sported on her hair. The woman eyed me up and down, saying, "So you're a Yank wizard eh? What's it like over there? You guys are a rather secluded lot. We don't hear much about goings on across the pond. Did you go to Illvermorney? What's it like? 'Betcha Hogwarts is better, nothin' can beat Hogwarts I can promise you that."

My head spun slightly as I tried to comprehend what all had been said. The damn woman talked at a mile a minute. Black let out a laugh, something that sounded much more like a bark than an actual laugh. "Might want to tone it down a touch for the poor lad Nymphadora. I don't think the poor man can understand what your saying, much less actually respond to it."

To my surprise, the woman's, Nymphadora, hair shifted. Turning from a bright, bubblegum pink, to neon red as her face contorted in anger. "I told you" she ground out, "Not to call me that." She then shifted her attention back to me, and I discretely fingered the holster of the handgun hidden on my waist. "The name's Tonks. Just Tonks. Got it?" The hell had I just gotten myself into, these people were psychotic.

I raised a hand in surrender. "Totally get it. I hate my full name too, no need to get hostile here." That seemed to pacify her, if the changing of her hair back to bubblegum pink was any indication.

"Good man." Then her eyes narrowed again, "But you seem to be avoiding my questions."

I just rolled my eyes as I spooned another little piece of heaven into my mouth. The woman could run away from him she wanted of it meant he could enjoy stuff like this. When he finished his chewing he swallowed and responded. "In order, I think anyway, no I am not a wizard. Same as here I guess? You got bad people, good people, and people in the middle. No I didn't go to Ilver-whatever the hell you called it, and don't know and for that matter I couldn't care less."

Tonks seemed shocked by the statement. So too were the rest of the occupants if the sudden stunned silence was anything to go by. "What the hell do you mean you're not a wizard?"

I rolled my eyes. "Pretty sure it means I can't do magic. You know, the definition of being a wizard."

"So…what. You're like a squib or something?" She asked,

"Nope" I replied, "no magic in me or anyone in my family, to my knowledge anyway."

"You're a muggle?" someone in the room asked, sounding utterly incredulous.

"The hell's a muggle? And why does that sound like you just called me a racial slur. " I asked.

A tall, wiry man, with almost sickly pale skin and large circles under his eyes responded with the air of a man who had once been in education. "A muggle is simply someone who does not have magic. I believe in your part of the world, you use the term, no-maj."

I frowned, well that wasn't entirely an accurate description, it also sounded painfully racist. "Sure, something like that I guess. But don't call me that. I don't like the way it sounds."

"Why's that then?" asked a hunched looking man over in the corner. "If it looks like a muggle, talks like a muggle, and can't do magic then its thrice damned muggle." By the end of his little rant, the little man was almost shouting. I had no idea where that kind of aggression was coming from, but I did know that this little punk was starting to piss me off.

"Call me that, one more time." I said slowly, rising out my chair. "And see what happens."

The little man just smirked and shared a look with the guy on his right, or at least tried to, the man sitting next to him was doing his best not to look him square in the eye. "Like I'm going to be scared of some muggle, what are you gonna-"

He never got a chance to finish however, as I leapt at him. I hurdled over the table in an easy jump, and was on the sorry son of a bitch faster than he could blink. Before he even registered what was happening I had tackled him to the ground, pinning him beneath me. I punched him hard, well hard for a regular mortal anyway, in the jaw with a quick pair of haymakers with both hands. Then, as he was stunned, I hauled him off the ground, and with one arm slammed him onto the table. I made sure not slam him so hard as to actually break the table, I was pissed but I wasn't going to go around breaking somebody else's stuff.

I closed my left hand around his neck as I grabbed hold of my pistol with my right, and drew it out of the holster. I pressed the barrel into the man's forehead as he choked and spluttered and tried to claw away at the hand around his throat. "I'm not particularly fond of bullies." I said quietly, "If you want to bully , push me around, and belittle me because I'm different from, then I got news pal. You're in the wrong camp, the bigots and bastards are on the other side. So." I paused and scanned the room, "anyone else have a problem with me being a no-maj?" nobody said anything, the only sound in the room were the spluttering's of the man I was still holding down. "I didn't think so." And I released the man on the table and walked back to my seat as the man gasped and gurgled for air.

"Hell of a way to make an entrance." Black muttered to me as a pair of individuals led the man away from the table, "Then again maybe it was a long time coming. Old Sturgis has been getting a wee bit big for his own britches lately. The name's Sirius, by the Sirius Black." He extended a hand which, after a second I shook.

"Look" I asked, rather awkwardly as I rubbed the back of my neck, "I gotta ask"

"It wasn't me." He said simply, knowing exactly what it was I was about to ask. "It was a man by the name of Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed James and Lily and tracked him down for it. I cornered him, he blew up a street block and killed all those people, not me." I nodded, I didn't need to I hear any more.

"If these people trust you than I do too." He nodded noncommittally at that.

"How is he? How's Harry? How's he handling everything?" At my look he answered, "I'm his godfather." While that raised a lot more questions, namely what the hell the man was doing chasing traitors rather than raising his godson, it did answer a few.

I finished the mouthful of food in my mouth before I responded, "He's been taking it in stride. He's at my safe house right now. Hopefully watching some TV and eating poorly and more importantly, not doing his homework." Black barked out a laugh and a large grin threatened to split his face in two.

"You know, I reckon I could come to like you" he said cheekily. I winked conspiratorially at him in response and from Black's side the pink haired woman groaned.

"Bloody hell there are two of them now."

"No need to sound so upset little Dorie" Black said cheekily, "I'm simply making nice with our newest friend."

"All you ought to be making nice with is business end of my wand you tosser."

The two continued to banter back and forth as I watched. It was a familiar routine. One I had seen everywhere I went. People, especially soldiers, needed a way to deal with the stress and danger of their lives. For many, banter back and forth with comrades not only built a rapport among your fellows, but helped keep the tension down.

He was broken out of his thoughts abruptly as the door to the kitchen opened and two figures entered the dining room. I knew the first one to enter, Dumbledore's stature and unusual dress always stood out even among wizards. The second man to enter, however, was not someone I knew.

All noise in the room effectively died the moment the two men walked into the room. All eyes rounded to watch the two as they made their way around the table. Dumbledore taking the place at the head of the table.

As soon as Dumbledore was seated, Molly materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, with a plate of food in her hands.

"Wonderful as always Molly" Dumbledore said kindly, his eyes twinkling. Molly immediately reddened out of embarrassment. Mumbling a humbled thank you in response, she bustled over to the other side of the table and took her place next to her husband. Instead of diving right into his mean however, Dumbledore just steeple his hands together and addressed the room at large.

"As most of you are likely aware, earlier last night young Harry was attacked by a pair of dementors, only a few blocks away from his relatives." Nobody responded to the news, it was why most of them believed that they were meeting in the first place. "Luckily, young Harry was able to ward off the creatures, thanks to the help of our newest member, Perseus Jackson." He said, pointing in my direction. "Please join me in welcoming him." There was brief, and hesitant applause from those present. It was awkward and I could feel a slight warmth on my cheeks.

"Mr. Jackson," said Dumbledore, ignoring my discomfort, "Comes to us from the United States. He was here working on behalf of the ICW. He performed an interview with Mr. Potter late last night and earlier this morning was interviewed by the entirety of the ICW grand council about what he had discovered." Everyone in the room now was listening with baited breath. It was beyond rare for the Grand Council to convene as one body. More than that, if the ICW was taking the accusations of Dumbledore and Harry seriously then there was hope that they could actually win the war.

Dumbledore continued, "After several hours of intense discussion, the council came to several decisions. Firstly, there will be no official declaration by the Confederation recognizing Voldemort's return" There was an outcry at that by nearly everyone in the room. Bill, Charlie, Tonks, and Black were all on their feet shouting incoherently. The only ones remaining quiet, were me, Dumbledore, and the scarred one-eyed man to hiding in the corner.

I was honestly expecting this. By acknowledging Voldemort's return, the ICW sacrificed any advantages it might have for no gain. By allowing Voldemort to maintain his secrecy, it kept things quiet. If Voldemort thought he had the advantage then he would do everything to keep it that way. Furthermore, I knew that Dumbledore knew what his plans were, meaning right now he was predictable. Meanwhile, because Voldemort didn't know that we knew he was back, meant that he wouldn't be pushing us or pursuing us. We could operate essentially in secret, striking him when he least suspected it. Furthermore, if he thought he had the advantage, it meant that he wasn't actively killing people, which was always a good thing in my book.

Dumbledore allowed for the ruckus to continue for another few moments before he raised his hands for silence. Immediately silence fell around the room and not for the first time I was struck by just how referential people were around Dumbledore. In a lot of respects it was rather terrifying. To have this kind of blind devotion from people was enough to be more than a little unsettling.

"I know that it seems as though we are being abandoned, but I assure you, that this is the correct action." Again no one said anything, and nobody questioned the man. However, to my surprise Dumbledore went to on to explain the rationale behind it. "The ICW also decided to indefinitely enlist the services of Mr. Jackson. He will be instrumental in our efforts to defeat Lord Voldemort and his forces. He has more experience than anyone in this room, including myself, leading military campaigns. I hope you all will do your best to listen to him and help him adjust."

Again nobody seemed to respond to that. His demonstration earlier was still seemingly fresh in their minds. "I will also be stepping down effective immediately as Chief Mugwump." This declaration was met with another round of uproars. Again, Dumbledore allowed the rumblings to last for a few minutes before raising his hands, and demanding silence once again. "This is what must be done. I cannot properly lead this organization, be headmaster, and chief Mugwump all at once. Beyond these reasons, Voldemort will think that he is getting everything he wishes for. The more we throw him off balance the easier we will be able to do what must be done."

At this point, I finally felt the need to raise my hand and ask a question that had been on my mind for some time.

"Yes Mr. Jackson." Dumbledore said,

I shifted a little uncomfortably in my seat as all eyes in the room turned to look at me. "Yeah, so I was just wondering. What exactly, have you guys been doing to, you know, actually fight back.? Are you following his supporters? Planning raids? Do you know who their financers are or how they're affording to pay for an army?" I had more questions but for whatever reason, I felt compelled to stop at that.

Dumbledore paused for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "We are doing what we can to garner support. Remus" he gestured to the pale man towards the end of the table. "Is working on courting the werewolves to our side and we have another pair on our side working on garnering support with the giants." At the mention of giants I felt my blood freeze as my mind went numb. It took several seconds for me to control myself. As I did, I realized that Dumbledore was still talking, "We are focusing the majority of our efforts however, on protecting something hidden deep within the department of mysteries in the Ministry." I waited for him to say more on the subject, but he didn't.

I looked around, waiting for someone else to jump in and say something, but nobody did. "Is that it?" I asked hesitantly. They were hardly doing anything at all!

Dumbledore chuckled softly at me, and looked at me almost pityingly. "My boy, what else would you have us do? We know exactly what he wants and why. We have it protected and we are pursuing alliances. What else could we possibly need to be doing?"

"Wow," I said before I could stop myself, "No wonder you guys lost the last war."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Molly Weasely was the first to recover from her shock, and in a shaky voice asked, "How dare you?" She was visibly shaking and Arthur had to put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from rising out her chair, Percy saw that her hand was on her wand. She paid her husband no mind, "How dare you say that, after what I lost in the last war. After what we had to do. How dare you!" Her voice was rising rapidly as she spoke. I began running my hand over the wristband on my left wrist, in preparation for conflict. However before the situation could escalate further Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"Let us all calm down. Molly, Perseus simply does not yet understand the way in which we do things over here. He does not understand and I'm sure he meant no offense." He looked meaningfully at me but I didn't say anything, instead I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to break eye contact with Molly. I knew that what I said might be considered out of line but that didn't mean that it wasn't right. With how little they were doing to proactively fight back, it was no wonder Dumbledore's little army had lost.

"Perhaps" Dumbledore said slowly, "We should adjourn for the evening. It has been a very long night and we are all clearly tired. We will meet next week at a more agreeable time." And without anymore being said, Dumbledore stood up and floated out the room. Having read the room, I followed closely after. I needed to report in and see about doing something about this…whatever this was. Making eye contact with Black on my way out, I felt reassured. The man nodded at me, clearly he was feeling similarly but was in no position to say anything. It gave me a glimmer of hope that I might be able to actually salvage the situation. Getting in my car I ran my hands over my face.

It had been a very long night, and it was going to get longer still.

 **AN: Sorry about the delay, life has been very hectic between work, school, and my own research. Anyways things are starting to ramp up a little and Percy flexes his muscles a bit and shows he's not one to be trifled with. Let me know what you think! Thanks for all of the support, and expect a new chapter of Protector to be coming out soonish.**


	5. Tubthumping

The door to the pizza shop closed behind me. I squinted, the sun was just starting to come up over the buildings and it was just bright enough to make it hard to see. After leaving the Order, I made my way over to headquarters where, for the umpteenth time that night, I got my ass chewed out. However, after Freeman carved out her pound of flesh she applauded me for my initiative and forward thinking. According to the report she had received from the Grand Council, our station here was effectively being put in charge of campaign against the dark lord.

We had spent some considerable time going over a plan of attack, but we eventually settled on a strategy. Firstly, we decided that we needed someone with legitimate authority within the British ministry on our side. This someone needed to be respected and influential within the ministry and also needed to be willing to actively work against the interests of their government. I already had an in with the order, an their access to a scant few aurors, however he had our sights set a little higher. We needed more information before we could begin actively courting allies.

You might be asking yourself, "But Percy, what about the Order? Aren't they going to be your allies?", yeah, how about a hard no. Some offense meant to them but if just standing around 'guarding' something was Dumbledore's idea of proactive, then I didn't want to see the other side of that coin.

So yeah, allies were on our list of 'shit that needs to get done'. Also on that list was compiling a list of targets to begin following. We needed to form a list of known Death Eaters. To my understanding the records of Death Eater trials was public knowledge, if nothing else we could start a tail on some of the more likely and high profile targets. We'd get a working understanding of their common schedules and favorite hangouts. We also needed to compile a list of target locations. We were working under certain legal constraints for the moment, so until Voldemort moved, we wouldn't be able to actively target his followers. That did not mean however, that we couldn't get a few surprises ready for the inevitable time that Voldemort went public.

It was a short drive from the pizza shop to the safe house, and it was still early enough that I didn't encounter any traffic. I felt it as I was pulling in to the parking garage. It was just an all consuming chill down the back of my neck, followed immediately by the hair on my arms standing on end. Steadying my breathing I focused hard on my surrounding's while attempting to make myself look nonchalant. Stepping out of car, I made my way to the driver side back door and opened it. I used the opportunity to look in the reflection of the window, but I didn't see anything on either side of me.

Shutting the door behind me I began, what appeared like, a leisurely walk across the suspiciously empty parking lot. The attack came as I was halfway to the exit. My body acted completely on instinct, diving to the left just in time to miss a jet of sickly green light. The light impacted the wall behind where I had been standing only a few seconds prior. I pulled out of my dive in a crouch, with a flick of my left wrist, a large bronze shield appeared. Taking the place of the fancy black wristband that had been there previously. With my free hand, I drew on the ambient air around me and a trident made entirely of water materialized in my empty hand.

My eyes jumped around the parking garage when a flicker of something drew my attention off to my left. I didn't think, instead I allowed my body to react. With my ears thumping as the familiar rush of adrenaline flooded my veins, I hurled the water trident in the direction of the movement. I was rewarded with a satisfying 'Thwack!' and a scream of pain and surprise. Where previously there had only been air, there was now a body heaped on the ground, three protrusions in his chest from where I'd had tagged him.

I knew there were likely more hiding nearby so I didn't give them a moment to breathe. I reached out again, this time creating a large whip-like tendril. Flicking my hand out the water whip slashed left slamming into into the mid-section of another invisible man. The man was launched into the air, before landing harshly onto the hood of a nearby parked car. The impact of his body on the hood caused the car's alarm to go off and the lights to begin flashing. The flashing of the lights cast a shadow on the third man.

I tore the shield off of my left arm and gripped it tightly in my right. I then turned and hurled the circular shield like a discus at the man and I took off at a run at the man the second after it left my arm. The shield collided with the head of man and was sent skyward. Before the man could even register what was happening I was on top of him. I led with a jab to just above his waist. I didn't hit him with all of my strength so the blow only knocked the wind out him. He double doubled over, gasping. I grabbed his arm and twisted it viscously to the side, breaking it before gripping the front of the mans shirt and pulling his head down into a brutal collision with my knee.

The man dropped in a heap at my feet. I scanned the rest of the garage, straining my ears for any signs of activity, but all I could hear was the thumping of my own blood. I did a quick once over the area, checking on the other two downed men, both of whom were down for the count. The one I had speared with the water trident was dead, his blood mixing in with the water of my makeshift weapon. After my walk, I determined that I was most definitely all alone now, and I began collecting my thoughts.

I needed to get out of here, someone, somehow, knew about my presence here in England. To what extent, I had no idea, but I had to assume it was everything. Plan for the worst and you can't be surprised. Looking down at the downed man at my feet I groaned.

"Freeman is gonna kill me."

BREAK

Caitlin, Caiti to her friends, Winthrope typically enjoyed her job. She had been with the department since her graduation from Illvermorney four years ago and it had been everything she had hoped for. Action, adventure, and danger. Every new day had been an exciting new tale to tell and she never knew just what was going to be around the corner. Right up until about six months ago. She had gotten on the wrong side of one of the chief agents back in New York. She had spurred his advances which had led him to begin an all out campaign to discredit her and remove her from the department. Unfortunately for Caiti, he had been at least marginally successful and before she could even blink she was transferred out of the home office and sent across the ocean to this boring observational role in Britain.

She hated it.

Her life was, simply, boring. The crew in Britain worked on a rotational schedule. Every other day, she was working in the kitchen or restaurant pretending to be an upstanding citizen trying to make her way. Then she would rotate out and follow and observe someone from the infinitely long list of person's of interest supplied by the department. Now under normal circumstances, this could be potentially dangerous, and even exciting work. The stars never seemed to align for her though and Caiti was forced to spend day after day tailing and observing targets who's only crimes against humanity seemed to be their own refusal to part with the seventeenth century.

She sighed and leaned forward against the counter, brushing a strand of her auburn hair out of her eyes as she did so. It didn't help that on top of everything else, the days at the little pizza shop were never busy. She wasn't entirely unconvinced that someone, likely Cole her other team member, hadn't placed a few no-maj repelling wards and spells on the small shop. It was the only reason she could think of why there never seemed to be anyone at all coming in.

She was immediately contradicted as the bell above the entrance rang and the front door opened. She looked up and started somewhat. One of the most attractive men she had ever seen was walking up toward the counter. Tall, broad shouldered, with piercing sea green eyes and slightly cropped but unruly black hair. He was a dream and a half and Caiti had to force herself not to stare. Standing up straight, she reorganized her thoughts and, for the first time since she started this assignment, allowed a genuine smile to grace her lips. As he approached, she got a slightly better look at him, he looked uneasy. His eyes were shifting from place to place and he was fidgeting somewhat. He was nervous about something and the butterflies from earlier began to disappear as caution and preparedness took its place. She surreptitiously lowered one hand from the counter to grasp at the wand holstered under the counter. Something in her gut was telling her that this guy was trouble.

She didn't let the smile drop from her lips though, and focused on the occlumency training the department had put her through to steady her emotions. If Mr. Attractive here had bad intentions, she didn't want to tip him off that she was on to him from the start.

"Hi there." She said, putting as much pep and bubble into her voice as she could, "Is there anything I can help you with?" he looked at her confused for a moment. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his arms unconsciously flex and un-flex, tense and un-tense, the sign of someone who was anxious but aware. He was definitely uncomfortable about something,

"Is uh…Abigail Freeman here?" She couldn't help but tense slightly, how in the hell did this guy know Freeman?

"I'm sorry but there's nobody named Abigail who works here. Are you sure you have the right place?" She said this through a smile but her grip on the wand tightened. He looked bewildered by her and ran a hand through his hair. It was distracting and he needed to stop it.

"You sure? Cause I was in here like not even four hours ago talking with her. And what happened to the other dude who was here?" she tensed, visibly this time and he clearly noticed. She watched as his eyes darted from her own to the counter, pointedly at the hand resting underneath the counter that very slightly shaking.

He raised his hands in the air and backed up a pace just as Caiti brought her wand to bare on him, center of mass. "Woah! Hey easy now! Look I'm one of the good guys! Can I reach into my jacket for my id?" He asked. Caiti didn't respond for a second, part of her wanted to stun him, obliviate him, and dump him in the alley behind the shop. I buried the voice that was saying that beneath a wall of reason. Clearly this guy was knowledgeable about our operation here, to some extent at least. He was also competent. She could see it in the way he moved and stood. She had also spent enough time with the British wizards here to know that even the normal born lost touch with the outside world badly enough to never acclimate as well as this guy had. So reluctantly, she nodded. She didn't trust her voice enough to actually say anything.

Caiti watched as he slowly moved his right hand and dipped it into a pocket on the inside of his coat. Pulling it out, he had a leather pouch that looked similar to a wallet clutched in his grasp. He dropped part of it down to reveal an federal identification card. Scanning it quickly, Caiti's face began to burn in embarrassment as she realized what she had almost done. This guy was with the department and she had just pulled her wand on him.

Hastily, she sheathed her wand and thrust her hand outward. "I'm so sorry about that, it's just things have been so slow around here and you were so shifty looking, not that you're shifty looking even though that's what I just said and I'm sorry but I just thought,-" she was rambling again, a bad habit when she was nervous or embarrassed. Thankfully he seemed to understand and wrapped his hand in hers.

"I'm Percy" he said, all smiles but still looking nervous, "Special agent Percy Jackson." He clarified, "It's nice to meet you."

"Special Agent Caitlin Winthrope, nice to meet you too agent." She released her grip, albeit slightly reluctantly, and crossed her arms, "What do you need to see Freeman for? For that matter, what are you even doing here? As far as I've heard we aren't due in transfers and lord knows nothing is happening around here."

The shifty look reappeared on his face and he rubbed his neck embarrassed. "Yeah about that, things might start to get kind of…interesting around here." Caiti quirked an eyebrow at that.

"What does that mean?" She asked, genuinely curious and slightly excited.

He chuckled nervously, "Well, um, how good are you at disillusionment?"

He had Caiti's interest. Now he had her attention.

BREAK

Considering the life he led, Harry Potter could say in no uncertain terms, that the last few days had been some of the strangest of his life. He had been attacked by dementors, saved by a strange American…something and had been spirited away to some random hotel in London. He had now been stuck here for he wasn't really sure how long. He had spent most of last night watching TV and eating room service food. It wasn't all bad though he supposed. Now that he was free of his relatives he could study and do his homework freely and without fear of retribution. He was happy to say that he had managed to make it through all of his potions homework and even a little bit of the charms essay he had been assigned.

However he had grown tired of working and now just wanted some answers. Harry liked to think of himself as a fairly patient guy but he was getting sick of the constant run around. None of his friends were telling him anything, Sirius wasn't telling him anything, and this new guy, Percy, wasn't telling him anything either. It was his life that others were playing around with and he had zero control over it. Last night, as he had been lying in bed, he had vowed that he was going to change that. The second Percy came back from…wherever the hell he had gone, he was going to give that blasted man a piece of his mind, demand some answers, and demand to be taken to see his friends and godfather.

He would have the opportunity sooner than expected, as he was roused from his musings by the sound of the key card in the door. The entrance to the suite opened and Percy staggered in. Harry's tirade died on the tip of his tongue. The man was the picture of exhaustion. Large backs under his eyes, and his previously messy hair looking like a bird's nest.

Harry had wanted to say something along the lines of 'How dare you keep me here like this' but what actually came out of his mouth was "Bloody hell you look awful."

Percy, who had been in the middle of kicking his boots off, flipped his middle finger up at Harry, who refrained from telling him that didn't mean the same thing here in Britain as it did in the States.

"Is that anyway to talk to the guy who brought home dinner?" he said, sticking his tongue out childishly. It was then Percy noticed the large square box of pizza in his left hand. He was going to respond, but his stomach beat him to the punch. Rumbling loudly in defiance at having not been fed at all that day. His face burning he turned away as Percy snickered to himself.

He plopped himself down at the small table he had been interviewed at the night before and waited as Percy grabbed things from the kitchen. Percy threw the box of pizza down in the middle of the table and tossed some paper plates and napkins Harry's way, before tearing into the box and stuffing nearly an entire slice of pepperoni in his mouth at once. He let out a satisfied moan and slouched back in his chair, eyes closed, looking tremendously content. Harry busied himself with his own food as he worked up the courage to ask the questions that had been burning in him all day.

"Stop thinking so loudly and just ask the question man." Percy said, in between shoveling the rest of the slice into his mouth. Again, Harry blushed in embarrassment. Personal confrontation was not something he was particularly gifted at, despite being in the house of the brave and bold. He would take another swarm of dementors over conversations like this with a total stranger any day of the week.

"What is happening, you've been gone for ages now and after last night I assumed things would be happening. But you've been gone all day and I've been stuck here on my arse doing nothing with no information just like its been all summer and I'm sick and tired of being left out of the loop!" The words left his mouth in a tumble as a year's worth of frustration and anxiety spilled out of one after another. Percy just sat back, eyes still closed for a second and let him ramble. For Harry's sake, it felt good, to finally get some of these frustrations of his chest.

Percy let him rant for another minute or so before even acknowledging Harry. As Harry gasped for breathe, exhausted from his ranting, Percy finally sat up and opened his eyes. "Better?" he asked, eyebrow raised. Harry just nodded and leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and looked at the man expectantly. Percy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He then launched into a detailed explanation of everything that had happened the night before, including his meeting with the Order and his conversations with the ICW. He had to pause and let Harry fume at what he perceived as gross inaction on the part of both the Order and the ICW. Percy ignored the stuff about the Order but when he explained the line of thinking behind the ICW's actions, eventually Harry began to understand. He even agreed with their line of thinking. With Voldemort thinking no one was on to him, he and his followers would be sloppier and it would be easier to begin putting pieces in place to catch them off balance. He didn't like the idea of sitting back an doing nothing but he could understand it.

It was the last line though that got his attention. Harry had been in the middle of taking a bite to eat when Percy said, "Oh by the way, just so you know I was attacked earlier today in the parking garage so we're going to have to move safe-houses." Harry immedietly began to choke on the pizza in his mouth before Percy clapped hard on the back a few times to clear his windpipes. Lungs burning, and back throbbing, the man, Harry noted, was ridiculously strong, he exclaimed, "The hell?"

"Yeah I got jumped on my back here this morning, that's why I was so late coming back here." Percy said, entirely too calmly for Harry's liking.

"Care to explain that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well I took them back to headquarters and we interrogated them. Pumped their asses full of truth serum and got quite the interesting story." He took a breathe before diving back into it. "So it turns out that someone at the Ministry really, really doesn't like you man. To the point where someone from the Ministry ordered those dementors to leave Azkaban and come after you."

Harry was stunned. He knew that Fudge and the Ministry weren't happy with what he and Dumbledore had been saying at the end of term in June, but to send Dementors after him? How was that justifiable? That was little less than Ministry sanctioned murder! On a fifth-year! He wasn't a threat to anyone! He voiced as much to Percy who was in agreement with him.

"But it get's better than that if you can believe it." Percy said. "We pressed these guys a little harder and they told us some very interesting stuff. Turns out they were a group of independent hit-wizards. They were contracted out third-party to watch the dementor hit on you and report back if things went south. Well, I guess two of them were rather enterprising because they followed us after we left your relatives place all the way back here. They tried to jump me when they realized that we had wards on this building preventing them from coming in."

Harry's head was spinning from all of these revelations. "How can they not know who hired them?" He asked, confounded by the idea that someone else was trying to kill him and he didn't specifically know who.

"They were contracted via owl and the payments were made in gold by a third-party deposited into a non-traceable vault over in Gringotts. Goblins don't care about the affairs of mortals unless they directly interfere with business so they don't care. Unfortunately that means that they also can't tell us who this third-party is so tracking down the people responsible is going to be..tricky."

"Meaning impossible! And so we have no idea who is trying to have me killed?" Harry asked, furious. It was just like his life for something like this to pop up unexpectedly. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve the ire of so many powerful people but it was starting to become emotionally and physically exhausting.

"I never said that." Percy said, sitting up straighter, "I said that it was going to be tricky, not impossible. See these hit-wizards were smarter than their contractor gave them credit for. One of them was rather gifted with Thaumaturgy and managed to trace the magical signature back to this third-party person."

"So what?" Harry asked, "We track this guy down and force him to tell us who he works for."

"Because as much as I love the phrasing of that, it's a little more complicated."

"Of course it is" Harry muttered. "Alright, why?"

"Because the woman who brokered the deal is Elizabeth Greengrass, and judging by the look you're giving me, I'm guessing that name means literally nothing to you." Harry nodded, though he recognized the last name as belonging to one of the girls in Slytherin in his year. "Elizabeth Greengrass heads the largest financial advisory firm in Britain." At seeing Harry's blank look, he explained, "Essentially she takes other peoples money and either spends it or invests it on their behalf while taking a percentage for themselves. As far as we can understand it, the Greengrass was hired out by somebody to deliver the instructions and payment to the hit-wizards on behalf of the buyer."

"So this Elizabeth Greengrass is part of all this?" Harry demanded hotly,

"That may not be necessarily true." Percy responded, brushing some crumbs off his shirt. "Often times nondisclosure agreements are part of the initial contract between buyer and third-party. In this case, I'm willing to bet that the Greengrasses had no idea what type of deal they were brokering or even what the money was for. The hit-wizards told us the orders came in the form of a sealed letter. I think its likely that they were just told to deliver the letter and stack of coins and not ask any more questions.

Harry nodded, it was sound logic and it made sense. But there was something that was bothering him. "But it someone was willing to go to all this trouble to not have things traced back to them, wouldn't there be some kind of protections in place to keep us from figuring it out?"

Percy nodded, "It's entirely possible but I figure that the Greengrasses are smart. They've been doing things like this literally for centuries. I would hazard a guess that they likely have some way of keeping track of all these kinds of payments just in case of a situation like this. Because you would be well within your right to sue them and theirs for all they're worth. So me and my team figure they have some kind of collateral for any shady purchases like this that exonerates them, or tracks down the original perpetrators."

"So now we just have to go to them and what? Ask them politely for their records? I somehow doubt they'll be ok with that. We don't exactly have much proof here."

"No" Percy agreed, "But that is why I have this" and he pulled out his badge, "This is my do whatever the hell I want and get away with it badge. The ICW and their agents trump anything and everything. The second I show them this and maybe threaten to have their entire practice audited, they'll scramble to get what we need."

Harry nodded he could believe that, but there was one more thing still bothering him.

"Wait" Harry said, realizing something, "If we don't know who the buyer is, then how do you know that it was the ministry that sent the dementors?"

"Because our people have been watching Azkaban closely, ever since your godfather escaped. They usually have someone posted nearby to report on anything weird or unusual and they said that the night of your attack, a representative from the ministry arrived with a letter from the office of the minister for some type of errand and immediately two dementors left the prison. Only one came back. It's not hard to fill in the blanks."

"Alright." Harry said after a long moment, "So where do we start."

Percy grinned.

 **AN: Wassup. So I know I said I'd update Protector but I just got hit with the need to write this. Its better to write when you want to write and when you are enjoying what you are writing, don't force it. So anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I had fun writing it. I decided to play around with perspectives a little bit, wanted to get some other views so I switched around between 1** **st** **and 3** **rd** **. I liked it but ultimately it's whether or not you guys enjoyed it. So let me know what you think and if you liked me bouncing around like I did. Also just let me know what you think of the story so far, I'm happy to see so many people enjoying it and having a good time. As always, thanks for the love and support. You guys are honestly so awesome.**

 **Love,**

 **Lil, DB**


	6. It's Cyclical

**AN: From the feedback I have received it seems that a static third-person perspective is the preferable device for telling this story. So for the remained of the story, that will be the tool I use, this is just a heads up so you guys know what to expect.**

It didn't take Percy and Harry long to pack up the few belongings they had at the hotel and move to a secondary safe-house location. They moved to a small town house on the outskirts of the city, it was a long drive, but given that they both had the ability to move rather effortlessly from place to place, neither Percy nor Harry were altogether bothered by the move. They spent the better part of the drive to the new location discussing the next few steps. Percy had, earlier the previous evening, decided that he was going to do his best to keep Harry as much in the loop as he possibly could. It was becoming clear to Percy that there was going to be no way of keeping Harry out of the coming conflict. Whether Harry was willing to participate in the fighting or not, didn't matter. He had been drawn into the war and was going to have to fight, regardless of whether we was a willing participant.

Percy knew what it was like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, quite literally in his case, and to have important information or secrets kept from you. He wasn't going to do that to someone he was quickly beginning to se a lot of himself in. But that didn't mean he felt that the kid was ready for frontline combat just yet. Regardless of what he had done in the past, and Percy had a pretty shrewd idea if the scars were any indication, Harry was still only fifteen, and for the most part completely untrained in any kind of actual combat, magical or otherwise. Percy resolved to do his best to rectify that situation. He had several friends whom he felt would be more than willing to lend a hand in getting Harry ready for what was on the horizon. It all played well into Percy's hand regardless, because the person he had in mind for teaching Harry was someone he needed to get in touch with anyway.

Percy and Harry had finally addressed the rather large elephant in the room, Harry's upcoming hearing and potential expulsion. Percy wasn't an expert in British magical law, hell he wasn't an expert in the United States' magical law. Percy did however, have a fairly good friend who, among being a professional attorney for the ICW, owed him a few favors. He felt that she would be more than willing to give her old country a ripping on Harry's behalf, and maybe get him pointed in the right direction for some serious magical combat training. In the meantime, Percy would begin laying the groundwork for Harry's personal fitness and general health and physique. The kid, in Percy's opinion anyway, was wildly underweight for someone his age and height. He was tall and way too lanky to be appropriate. Percy was going to rectify that.

Harry would not enjoy going through Instructor Percy's Training Camp. After getting settled down in their new hideaway, Percy began making calls. Freeman, having been present for the previous evening's interrogation, had come through with several warrants for a thorough search and seizure of Greengrass assets. Percy may have underplayed in his talk with Harry the repercussions of the attack. Percy was an agent of the United States Magical Congress, acting on behalf of the ICW. This meant that, for all intents and purposes, he was a direct representative of the international organization itself. By attacking him, the hit-wizards had also attacked not only attacked a member of the magical American government, but also the ICW. That was a very serious crime.

In a world as small as the magical one, it was all hands on deck. Following Grindlewald the magical governments of the world decided they needed to take a more hands on approach to protecting themselves. So when there were individuals threatening the security and safety of magicals everywhere, the threat was taken very seriously. More importantly, the individuals charged with safeguarding the magical world, were prized individuals and protected more harshly than others. It had thus been all too easy for Freeman to get an immediate reply from the judiciary committee of the ICW, granting her request for a thorough search of the Greengrass' business interests.

At the same time Percy was making calls to his friends and advisors, Agent Winthrope and her partner, the man Percy had been ever at odds with, Theodore "Teddy" Dempsey, were making a little house call to Greengrass and Davis Advisory.

BREAK

Winthrope and Dempsey crossed the threshold into Diagon Alley. Turning sharply, the pair walked silently into the commercial district. The commercial district of the Alley was where the majority of the premier businesses were located, with the notable exception of the bank. This was the heart and soul of the British magical economy. Where the bread was made, both literally and figuratively. Almost every major pureblood family had either real estate or business interests on this strip of the alley. As a result it was much more heavily guarded than the main boulevard. Outside the doorway to every building or business was at least one armed guard.

They were private contractors, hit-wizards, and mercenaries that worked independently from the British ministry. Despite appeals by previous heads of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the guards were a permanent fixture in the alley. Only a few months ago, in fact, Amelia Bones, the current department head, had petitioned the government for the removal of these guards. Stating that their presence accounted for a legal militia amongst the pureblooded elites, and served as a dangerous counterweight to the legitimate policing forces of the ministry. The motion died in its first round of voting however. Too many hands on the Wizengamot were too heavily invested in the alley, and were none too keen to give up their paid protection.

The pair soon found themselves in front of a modest, unassuming building about three-fourths down the alley. The pair of large, burly men in well-made and custom tailored robes watched them approach with appraising glares. However, they raised no trouble when the pair displayed their badges identifying them as agents of the ICW. While they were paid to keep out intruders, every hit-wizard worth their salt knew better than to try and get in the way of an international agent. Although, the enforcers likely would have been less keen to bend to the pair's whims had they known that they were not actually members of the ICW's exclusive list of international police agents, but rather were American investigators with some well constructed credentials.

At Dempsey's suggestion, the two had borrowed Percy's official badge and had transfigured a pair of their own. While they likely would not hold up to excess scrutiny, it would have to do until Freeman could convince the brass to gift them all with some legitimate deputy badges. Holding them up, the burly men at the gate glanced at them quickly, before he quickly had a second take. With a noticeable gulp, the man ushered them inside. Making no qualms about wanting them out of his hair as soon as possible. When the ICW got involved in something, folks learned very quickly not to try and stir the pot.

The two strode into an ornate lobby. Banners displaying the Greengrass family sigil, a silver trident with twin vines draped across the handle, were proudly hanging from pillars on both sides of the room. It felt to Winthrope, like they had walked back in time to an era in which the Parthenon still stood proudly. She shared a brief glance with her partner, before they strode across the velvety carpeted floor towards the ostentatious reception desk. The Greengrass', like many, were proud of the wealth they had acquired, and were all too keen on displaying said wealth for all to see. It had the added benefit of securing the trust of their clients that the people they were working with, really did have the know how, and desire to make them money.

Sitting at the reception desk was a young girl, maybe only fourteen years old. Already Winthrope could tell that in a few years she would be a heartbreaker for men everywhere. Long platinum blonde hair was pulled up in a professional bun on the top of her head, while a pair of loose strands fell out, framing her aristocratic features. She acknowledged them as they approached,

"Hello" she said, her voice light and professional, "and welcome to Greengrass and Davis Advisory. Do you have an appointment?" As a response the pair pulled out their transfigured credentials as Winthrope addressed the girl.

"Not exactly. We have a warrant from the Judicial Council of the ICW to search the client records of this advisory firm. We would like to speak with Elizabeth Greengrass." There was an implied "NOW" in the way Winthrope made her request. In response, the young girl paled dramatically, quite the accomplishment given her alabaster complexion, and merely nodded. She turned around and took off at a dead sprint in the direction of what she assumed was the branch head's offices. Once again, she shared a look with her partner, barely keeping the smirk off of her face.

People tended have two reactions when confronted with armed security forces. The first, and likely the most intelligent, was to comply to the demands being made. Assuming they were reasonable of course. Winthrope wasn't naïve enough to think that there weren't people out there, more than happy to abuse the powers of their positions. The second, was to lash out and fight back, either verbally, or physically. With a sheltered little kid, who probably was related in some way to the owners, the reaction was about as unsurprising as a lecher in a brothel.

The girl was back maybe a minute later, her face red and a light sheen on her face. She clearly wasn't all that used to running around. She took a moment to compose herself, and Winthrope was impressed that there wasn't a waiver in her voice when she spoke.

"Madam Greengrass will see you now. Please follow me." It was less than thirty seconds before they were stopped in front of a large, oak door. In the middle of the door was a large, bronze, nameplate that read

"Elizabeth Greengrass. Chief Advisory Officer. CEO of Greengrass and Davis Advisory"

The girl raised her fist to the door and knocked twice, waited a beat, and then opened the door outward, allowing the agents to enter the room first. Unconsciously, Winthrope felt her wand begin to slide down into her palm. It was likely just excessive paranoia on her part, but she wasn't overly concerned with it. There was an old saying by some no-maj military man that had been hammered into her during training. Hope for the best, expect the worst. She hoped that she wasn't walking headlong into an ambush. But if she was, she wouldn't be surprised, and she would be ready for it.

The office was as lavish and excessive as the rest of the building had been. Beautiful and expensive looking art and sculptures were placed around the room every few feet. Antique no-maj weapons from the middle ages were enclosed in large cases and hanging from display racks. A large bookcase lined one wall, and a large map of Britain, was blown up across on the opposite. It felt like a cross between an art museum and a forward operating camp in a combat zone.

At the far end of the room, was a large mahogany desk, behind which sat a beautiful witch in her early thirties. Her long, platinum blonde hair was pulled up in a bun framing her stunning visage. As Winthrope met the cold blue eyes of the woman, she found her earlier suspicions confirmed. The young girl with them had to be a relative. Likely her daughter.

"Thank you Daphne. That will be all." Said Elizabeth Greengrass. Her voice was light, but tight. Winthrope could detect the thinly controlled anger in her voice. That wasn't surprising. She'd be pissed too if a pair of agents from the ICW dropped in unannounced. The girl, Daphne, didn't need any further encouragement and left the room quickly. Closing the door behind her. Winthrope felt the familiar woosh of pressure as privacy wards activated around the room. She felt her wand dip a little further down from its holster.

"Now" Greengrass said, without further preamble, "What is this about a warrant?" her tone had taken on a chill that I was confident the temperature in the room had gone down a few degrees. I nodded at Dempsey and he pulled a letter out of his coat pocket. Handing it to the woman she started reading. Her face contorted with anger the further along she read. "Absolutely not!" she yelled, throwing the paper down on the desk as she stood. "This is a complete and utter breach of the international business treaty. Me and my clients have a right to privacy. This is a clear and obscene overreach by the Confederation and I will not abide by it!"

She was working herself into what I'm sure would have been a truly wonderful tirade, but I decided to head her off before she worked herself up too much. "It's really not." I said calmly, my tone having the desired effect of shutting her up as she glared at me. Dempsey followed my lead.

"Especially when this advisory firm has been directly linked with an attempted assault on a special investigatory agent of the ICW." Greengrass' head snapped in Dempsey's direction. Her eyes growing so wide that I was concerned they were going to pop out of her skull.

"But" I said, keeping her off balance as she had to redirect her attention to me. "I guess we could leave. Come back at a time when things are little busier. Only then, it won't be just us. We'll bring an entire squad with us. Turn this whole place upside down. Maybe even arrest some of your clients. You never know, one of them might know something. And you know how it goes, we can legally detain you and any of your clients for upwards of seventy-two hours without a charge."

"Sure" Dempsey said shrugging, once again throwing Greengrass off balance, "You'd all probably get out in a matter of hours. But could you imagine the absolute media shitstorm?"

"I can see it now" said Winthrope, "'Greengrass and Davis attempts to murder ICW agent! Cover-up, Conspiracy or something More!' Sure it's a bit sensationalist, but given the state of the papers here these days, I'd be willing to bet they'd go for it."

"Then what happens? How many of your clients do you think would be willing be to stand by and keep you on as we hand you over to the auditors and they take their time picking through every dirty little secret you want to try and cover up."

"You know what." I said to Dempsey, turning and making like I was going to walk out the room.

"Wait!" Cried out Greengrass, who looked like she was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown. It was, of course, expected. These banker and wealth management and acquisition types were easy when you knew how to play them. They loved to talk a big game, and play around as though they were masters of their domains, but they weren't playing around in the chambers of the British ministry, and Dempsey and Winthrope weren't the types to be bullied or cowed by overt displays of wealth. The minute they realized they couldn't push or bully their opponents, or impress them with lavish gifts, they usually fell into place. It helped that the Winthrope and Dempsey had turned a particular favorite mind game against the woman. Kept her off balance and unsure what direction they were going. Though she had to give the woman credit. From the way she was gnashing her teeth as Winthrope turned back to address her, she probably realized that the two were bluffing. But it wasn't like she could take that chance.

The woman sighed, sitting down in her chair and rubber her forehead. "What do require?"

BREAK

It looked like it was about to rain again, Percy observed from the hood of his car. The sky was cloudy and the occasional rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Percy looked away from his sky-watching at the sound of approaching tires on pavement. A sleek, silver sports car pulled up to the curb directly in front of him.

Percy pushed himself off the hood of his car and strode over to the driver side door and opened it. Stepping out was a beautiful, dark skinned woman. her long, dark hair fell in silken tresses across her shoulders. Her name was Sarah Amelia Rosthein. Percy has met her a few years back during his training. She had still been at University, but had since graduated to become a rather prolific attorney in magical Britain.

Growing up as a squib to a magical family, she had been ostracized and disinherited from her family. She had since made it her personal mission in life to raise as much unholy hell upon the ministry whenever she had the chance. Percy knew before he even asked her, that she would take Harry's case.

"Lovely to see you again Percy" she said, a beautiful smile stretching across ruby red lips. She took his offered hand, and allowed him to aid her out of the vehicle. She embraced him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "It's been what, nine-ten months since you've come to visit? Girl's feelings get hurt you know"

Percy felt his cheeks flush, in spite of himself. Pulling back he glowered at the proud smirk on her face. She took entirely too much pride in winding him up. "You know very well that it's not like that."

"No." She agreed, crossing her arms under her chest. Percy has to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes above her neckline. She had an annoying habit of wearing low-riding tops. "However", she said, "when you do come out to visit it's not even for a drink. You ask me to come all the way out into the boonies for work." They started walking along the sidewalk.

"I know, I know. But I wouldn't have called you here if it wasn't important, you have to know that right?"

They stopped and Sarah touched his arm soothingly. "I know Perce, I was just taking the mick." They started walking again, "that being said I would appreciate knowing why you called me all the way out here, without actually telling me what you wanted, or what you were doing.

Percy smiles sheepishly and nodded. He knew that she had showed a lot of faith in him simply coming out here on his request. "You follow the wizard news here in Britain?" He asked.

She shook her in a non-committal gesture. "Every now and then" she said, "but it's always such a load of bollocks that I never seriously consider it." Perch nodded. It was a well known fact among many other supernatural countries that the press in the UK was notoriously biased and censored.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew the aforementioned paper. Unfolding it he handed it to her. She took and looked at it closely. Percy has circled an article in bright red ink and she began reading. As she worked her way through the article she became increasingly incensed. Doing her best to conceal her anger, she looked up and addressed Percy, who had been waiting patiently as she read.

"So the government is officially trying to silence Potter. I think I can guess why you called me then." Percy simply nodded "of course I'll help the lad out." She said, a determined steel in her gaze. Percy smiled brightly, and his face visibly relaxed as his shoulders sagged in relief.

Without saying anything else, Percy once more reached into his pocket and withdrew, what appeared to be, a business card. He handed it to her and she looked at it.

"The Safe House of the USDSI can be found at 1331 Wallaber Lane." As soon as she read the last word there was a pull on her lower stomach, and she felt a strange warmth rush over her. Looking up, she gazed past a smirking Percy at a large townhouse that slowly inflating like a large balloon, where previously there had been only an empty lot.

She turned her attention back to Percy, who still smirking, amused, at her. Instead of replying she opted to start walking towards the house.

"I'm guessing there's more to this than just the kid then?" She said, listening to him catch up and match pace beside her. He didn't respond and instead nodded. She realized that he wasn't likely going to respond to her while they were still out in the open. These specialist types could write the book on paranoia, but she had to agree in this instance. Anyone could be listening or watching.

Percy waited until the door to the home had shut, and locked behind them before speaking. "I was sent by the ICW to investigate certain possible instances in the country, that the British ministry isn't handling themselves."

Sarah nodded, deducing it for herself, "and I'm guessing, since you're still here and layered under some seriously powerful protective magic, that you found some truth to the rumors?"

Percy didn't say anything. She figured as much. He was probably under orders not to say anything, and even then she could figure it out for herself. Besides, she was a lawyer, not a soldier. Even if he was allowed to tell her what was going on, and even if what she assumed was correct, indeed was, that wasn't why she was here.

So, in the end, she decided to leave well enough alone and focus on Potter. "Alright, so tell me what's going on with the kid and why and how you're involved." Percy nodded, he was inwardly relieved that she had decided not to press him on the whole ICW thing.

He led them into the kitchen and busied himself quickly with pouring a pot of coffee. He'd had the foresight to start the pot before leaving to grab her. She drank her coffee like he did. With cream and a hell of a lot of sugar.

She smiled a thank you as he set her cup in front of her, and waited patiently for him to sit. He then proceeded to tell her everything that had happened the night of the attack. He intentionally left out his reasoning for being in Potter's neighborhood that weekend.

She listened attentively, jotting down notes occasionally, but never interrupting him. When he finished his synopsis she didn't say anything for a while, and instead focused on her writing.

When she finished. She laid her pen on the table and closed her notebook. Sighing heavily, she sat back in her chair and sat deep in thought for a moment.

"It'll be tricky." She said after a moment, "Fudge recently took complete control of the Wizengemot. And you of all people know what that kind of power does to a man's ego."

"So you don't think you can help him out?"

She smiled, "I said tricky, not impossible."

BREAK

Harry raised his head at the knock at the door. If he were honest, he welcomed the break. The theoretical application of magic had never exactly been his strong suit. The charms essay he had been attempting to write had been kicking his ass, so the interruption came as a relief.

He stood up, stretching his neck and receiving a satisfying series of pops as he approached the door. He opened it to the smarmy grin of Percy.

"And he's alive!" The man joked, before adopting a shot-eating grin. "Hadn't seen you all morning. Figured you either died or were beating off up here." Harry spluttered, unsure how to respond as he felt his face flush scarlet.

Percy saves him the hassle of rebuttal, "c'mon downstairs, there's someone here you need to meet." And without he disappeared from the doorway, leaving a thoroughly mortified Harry behind him.

He took a moment to collect himself and raced after him. He found him in the kitchen, leaning against the table talking in hushed tones with a woman.

Percy, Harry was quickly realizing, attracted beautiful woman like he were lighthouse in a storm. And the woman talking to him, was truly beautiful. Harry liked to think he knew himself fairly well, and he knew that when came to women, he was fairly pap. But even he wasn't oblivious enough to not recognize the looks the woman was sending Percy, or the way she seemed to make an excuse to touch his arm or hand.

The two were so engrossed in their, whatever, that they didn't notice Harry for a full minute. Until he decided that enough was enough and coughed loudly into his hand drawing their attention. To their credit, neither of them looked the least bit embarrassed.

Percy pushes off from the table, his seemingly patented smirk still plastered on his lips. "Harry" he started, gesturing with his hand to the woman at the table, "I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Sarah Rosthein. Ace attorney." His last pronouncement was made with an embellished wave of his arm and theatrical bow.

The woman, Sarah, laughed in good nature at Percy's little game. She slapped him in jest on the arm. "Come off it Jackson!" Percy yelped in exaggerated pain and walked away laughing into the other room.

Shaking her head at the man, Sarah turned her attention to Harry and stuck out her hand. "Mr. Potter it's a pleasure to meet you."

Harry haltingly grasper the offered appendage. "A pleasure, ma'am." He said, and she laughed, she had rather lovely laugh he thought. "Please Harry, May I call you Harry?" He nodded, "good. Now I was going over your case with Percy," oh is that what you're calling it? "And I believe that we will have a very easy ride here. Amelia Bones is stern but fair, a firm believer in following the letter of the law."

"That's a good thing?"

"A very good thing. The law is on our side here Harry. If we have a fair hearing with Bones then you're exonerated. Easy as that." For a moment Harry felt a surge of hope I his heart that things were finally turning themselves around. But as he thought back to what she had just told him, as well as the less than ideal look on her face, he felt his heart sink again.

"You...you don't sound like we're going to have a fair hearing though..." it wasn't a question, and he didn't lie the answer regardless.

"No I do not. To be blunt Harry, you have been your own worst enemy his summer. Not that it's at all your fault, a fifteen year old can hardly be expected to know how to deal with machinations of politicians thrice his age." She cut him off before he could protest or question what she was talking about.

"Like it or not Harry you and Dumbledore ruffled feathers at the end of your last term. Britain does not want to deal with the idea of the dark lord returning. Least of all Fudge. He's usurped a lot of the traditional powers of the government and is going to use this hearing as an attempt to shut you up for good."

For a moment Harry was at a loss for words. The sheer unfairness of it all. He hadn't asked for this. Hadn't asked to be the mortal enemy of some delusional madman. Hadn't asked to watch, as his friend and companion was struck down in cold blood in front of him. He hadn't asked for any of it and still he was being blamed for it. It wasn't fair.

"But even then, we have aren't powerless." The voice of Sarah drew him out of his mental tirade. "We has a witness. One hell of a witness, that even that even Fudge can't cow into submission."

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry ask cautiously, confused as to how she could be of help to anyone. Then, at Sarah's look, he felt like an idiot. Of course she was referring to Percy.

"But how does Percy help? If they're hell bent on throwing me out what good will a witness do?"

Sarah reaches over patted Harry's arm reassuringly. He tried to ignore the way his chest constricted and the flush over his cheeks at the beautiful woman's touch.

"Because luv, Percy is a card carrying representative of the ICW, one of their elites. When he says something is true, it is to be taken as fact regardless of the harshness of it."

"If that's the case, then why are we bothering with any of this? Shouldn't it be as simple as him just telling Fudge what happened, and everything is over without any of this nonsense." Harry's frustration was starting to trickle out now. Sarah however, bless her, had the patience of a saint and simply remained calm and sympathetic.

"Unfortunately not." She said reaching over to take a sip of her coffee. "Because of his affiliations, there will be questions. People will want to know what he was doing in Britain. The ICW is supposed to notify the host government when one of their agents is operating in country."

She paused to take another drink. "Now I don't know the specifics of what Percy is doing here and why, and frankly I don't want to know. It makes my life easier so I don't have to lie if I'm asked. That being said, it's clear enough that he and the ICW most certainly do not want to let the ministry know that Percy was here on business. Call it intuition but I'm willing to bet that any thorough investigation into Percy's presence will disrupt whatever it is he's trying to do here."

She paused again and let the information soak in. Harry had to force himself to look at the bigger picture here. This was more than just his education on the line here. Percy and whomever he was working with were likely the most capable defense standing up against the Death Eaters. The thought was enough to calm him down, even as a new thought entered his mind. Not so much a thought perhaps, as much as it was a realization.

Had you asked him a month ago whom he thought was the greatest defense against the forces of darkness, he would have answered without so much as a blink that it was Dumbledore. However this summer had proven to shake the foundation of trust that Harry had for the headmaster. He felt his nerves harden and he steeled himself, he turned and addressed one of the few people Harry was beginning to think he could trust.

"All right. Let's put a case so strong together Fudge pisses himself next we meet."

The smile on Sarah's face could only be described as predatory.

BREAK

Percy waited until the greasy haired-man, he thinks he remembers him being called Snape. Had left the house. He had only just met the man, but had taken an immediate disliking to him. He spent the majority of the meeting making not-so-subtle jabs at Black, as well as stroked his own ego about risking his life in enemy hands. He wasn't sure what else it was about the man, perhaps the way he said a lot, without really saying anything at all, that bothered him. Or maybe Percy just didn't trust a man on the inside that he didn't know personally. Regardless, he wanted to broach some topics with Dumbledore, and felt that it would be safest without him there. Percy didn't want to take any chances with revealing who or what he was to a man that might not be the ally they thought he was.

He didn't have to wait long. The meeting hadn't even been officially ended before he abruptly stood up, shared a knowing look with Dumbledore, and glided out of the room. He was loathe to admit, but Percy was kind of impressed with the way the man somehow got his cape to billow when there wasn't a breeze. He sat quietly as he waited for Sirius to return from shutting his mother up, Percy had the misfortune of meeting the woman earlier that evening, and had tried to no avail, to slash her portrait down from its mountings.

As Sirius took his seat, Percy spoke up, hoping to catch Dumbledore before he called an end to the proceedings. "Mr. Dumbledore sir." Percy said raising his hand. There were a few chuckles at the display. Dumbledore himself was smiling, though not unkindly at Percy.

"Yes Percy, you had something you wished to add?"

Percy lowered his head half stood-up, thought better of it and sat back down. Sirius was snickering from beside him, so he kicked him in the shin causing the man to yelp, and Tonks to snort loudly into her drink.

"A comment and a question sir." At the headmaster's nod, Percy continued. "I just wanted to inform you that next Friday, I'll be personally overseeing Harry's move from the safe house he is in, to this location." There was a rather stunned silence at his pronouncement. It hadn't taken long for Percy to realize that all actions taken by the order were done as a result of orders from Dumbledore. And Percy didn't necessarily have a problem with that. There needed to be a clear chain of command or else things could quickly dissolve into anarchy. No, his problem was that there was no chain of command, not really. The buck stopped with Dumbledore. Nobody else gave orders, and certainly nobody acted upon their own initiative. It was why everyone was appearing so shocked. They just couldn't fathom that Percy would do something, or even be arrogant enough to do something, so important as the transfer of Harry Potter between safe houses, without first consulting the headmaster or the order.

Though Percy couldn't help but notice the look of approval in Remus and the red-haired man Bill's eyes. He filed that information away for later and avoided Sirius' beaming face, instead looking the headmaster in the eyes. The elderly looking man, wasn't angry from the looks of it, merely contemplative. As though he was passively observing a rather interesting card trick. "May I inquire as to the reason behind your decision?" the man asked.

Percy nodded, "As you know from the report my office sent you, I was attacked a few days ago. Hit-wizards hired from someone within your ministry ambushed and tried to kill me in the parking garage outside the apartment I was staying at. Harry was with me at the time, which was what prompted my moving him in the first place. However, I believe the time has come for me and my team to take a bit more of an active role in our investigations, and I'm concerned about Harry potentially getting in the crossfire." He paused for a moment before adding, "And as much as I like the kid, buddy needs to be around some people his own age." Percy also made a point of looking directly at Sirius as he said his next bit, "And he needs his family."

Percy didn't miss the way that Sirius' hands tightened into fists and his eyes watered slightly. The fugitive nodded tightly at Percy, appreciation swimming in his eyes, and Percy nodded back.

"The kid hides it well but he's hurting. The crap he went through in June is haunting him. Haunting him real bad. As someone who's been there at his age, he can't go through that alone. As much as I'd like to think I've made friends with him, that ain't something he's going to share with me." Everyone in the room seemed to bow there heads at that. Like they had forgotten, because truth be told they probably, everything the young man had been forced to go through. Fourteen-year olds were not meant to have to deal with the death of their friends on their own. They certainly weren't meant to be left alone to their thoughts and nightmares either.

"I'll handle the transfer myself, me and my team will move as a convey from our current location. Even if the Dead Heads know we're moving they won't be expecting him to be moving non-magically. Besides that, the SUV's we've got at lockdown can withstand a 50mm canon round and still move. We'll get him here safe and sound I promise you that."

Dumbledore seemed to consider it for a few moments, then nodded, his eyes hard. "I believe, Mr. Jackson, that perhaps you are quite correct. I myself, was considering just a few hours ago that young Harry was long overdue for a reunion between his friends and loved ones. I'll leave his escort to you. Although I request that you bring along a few members of the order. If nothing else than to satisfy an old man's worrying heart." Percy nodded, and shared a look with Alastor Moody, who gave him an appreciative nod in return.

"Thank you sir." Percy said, and he meant it. He had been worried that Dumbledore was going to put up more of a fight, but they were of the same mind. "As for my question. We're taking a lot of risks and pains to ensure that we are protecting something in the Hall of Mysteries. Everyone here seems to have an idea what that something is except for me. I think I should know" He added under his breathe, "Especially since my first shift is tomorrow, Exactly what it is we are risking so much for. What does this Voldemort guy want so badly?"

Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle for a moment, and were instead replaced by a man much older than he appeared, which truly was a feat. Percy could see a tremendous sadness and self-loathing in the man's eyes. Percy recognized it from his own looks in the mirror after coming out of the pit. He had gotten better, the nightmares didn't come as frequently, and his shrink said he was making good progress, but Percy knew that look very well. After what seemed like an eternity Dumbledore nodded. From the depths of his robes, he pulled out his wand and waved it in the air. Percy felt the brief pressure of some kind of warding scheme pass through the room.

Dumbledore lowered his arm again, and answered Percy's questioning look. "In a house like this, it never hurts to take precautions against…wandering ears" His eyes twinkled in mirth as though he hadn't just said something profoundly confusing and slightly nonsensical, but Percy ignored it. Dumbledore looked Percy dead in the eyes, and Percy felt his stomach drop out of his chest. He wasn't going to like this.

"We are guarding Mr. Jackson…Percy…a prophecy."

Percy couldn't respond for a minute. His body had locked up. His breathing had halted and his brain needed to reboot. He couldn't be about to be put through all of this shit again. He refused to believe it. Was it all part of a plan? Was this, his being here, part of some greater scheme? And if there was a prophecy, how the hell didn't he know about it! It took him so long to respond that it was only after Sirius nudged his leg, that Percy was able to find his voice.

"Gods dammit not this shit again."

 _ **AN: aight, so grad school applications, fucking, suck. Like $500 a piece and take forever and a year to complete. So that's why I haven't really been updating. That and the last year of my Undergrad has been just hell so far. However I 4.0ed last semester so I guess I can't complain. Anyways, those are my excuses for being slow on the updates but, well, you get how it is. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've taken the advice of some of my reviewers, who are all awesome by the way, and decided to stick with 3**_ _ **rd**_ _ **person perspective for this story. It's honestly easier and I enjoy it more. Like always, thanks you guys for all of the love and support, I hope you had an awesome start to the year and if not, don't worry things will turn around and you'll be kicking ass again soon! Let me know what you thought of the story and have an awesome day!**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **LilDB**_


	7. Screw the Rules, I Have a Sword

After his rather profane reaction to the news about the prophecy, Percy excused himself from the meeting, ignoring the shouts of for him to stay and explain just what the hell would cause him to react in such a way. Normally, he would have been more than happy to put the arrogant snobs in their place, but he had more pressing issues to deal with. He had hopped into his car, phoned Freeman, and told her that they needed to convene a meeting immediately to discuss the latest development.

He knew that it was late, and as he walked into the backroom of the small pizzeria he felt a twinge of guilt at the sight of the dark circles under the eyes of his colleagues. Judging from the large stack of folders on the large oak table in the meeting room, the agents had been slogging through financial reports and data for days now. Taking a seat next to Caitlin, who flashed him a tired but encouraging smile which he returned, he waited silently for a second as Freeman strode into the room.

"Sorry for the short notice you two" she said, addressing the pair of tired agents, "But Jackson assured me that what he learned tonight is of vital importance to our goals here." And with that, she silently handed the reins over to Percy, who took the cue and rose out of his seat, nodding at the lead agent before taking her place at the head of the table.

"Tonight at the meeting with the Order I was granted access to some…annoying new information." He could see raised eyebrows at this, but thankfully nobody interrupted, "According to Dumbledore, the "weapon" that is being guarded by the Order is in fact a prophecy." He paused, letting the information sink a little. If nothing else, their reactions were at least a little entertaining. Caitlin choked on her spit and began coughing rather violently. Dempsey's looked like he was about to fall out of his chair. Freeman handled it considerably better, but only because she had been informed prior to the meeting taking place.

It was moments like this that cemented to Percy the strange circumstances of his life. His most formative teenage years had quite literally been dictated by prophecy. One after the other, they were a common and painful aspect of a demigods life. However, the vast majority of the magical population had never and would never, have reason to interact with prophecies. Few were ever even party to a prophecy, and for most magical communities, this most abstract of magiks had attained a mythological status. To hear that the subject of a major investigation was also part of a prophecy, was damn near earth shattering, and demoralizing.

Dempsey was the first to recover, his New England accent peaking through as his stress over the revelation. "Ok…so the kid is part of a prophecy. What exactly does that mean for us?"

Percy shrugged noncommittally, "could mean we're involved in some way or it could not. I'm going to guess that you two don't have much experience with the damn things?" Freeman, Dempsey and Caitlin all shook their heads.

"But I'm guessing that you do?" Caitlin said, eyebrow raised. Dempsey's eyes narrowed somewhat and Freeman turned a hard stare in his direction.

Percy nodded, "I have probably some of the most experience with prophecies next to a genuine seer or oracle." Seeing the interruption that was coming he held up a hand, "And no, I can't explain why. Classified, not even Freeman is party to that kind of information." As one, Percy's fellow agents turned their gaze to their field commander, who shook her head in affirmation of Percy's claim. "For all we know the prophecy could mention, or it could not. Honestly it doesn't matter much and won't mean much to what we're trying to accomplish here."

"And how the hell can you know that?" Freeman growled out. She was not used to being in the loop, and finding out that this outsider to her space of operations was operating on intelligence she was not privy to was extremely worrying and agitating.

Percy raised two fingers, "As far as prophecies go there are two universal truths. The first, is that they always come true. No matter how hard you may try and act against them, a genuine prophecy will become a reality whether you like it or not. Even if you think that your actions are going against the supposed prophesized order, they are not. No changing that."

He lowered his middle finger but kept his pointer finger raised. "Number two, prophecies are vague as all hell and open to interpretation. Even if we find out what the prophecy says, it will likely be stated in such a way that we have no idea what it even is really saying. That's kind of the point. Contrary to popular belief, these things aren't always an if then statement. Prophecies describe a series of events that will lead to an eventual outcome. Usually there are a handful of possible endgame scenarios that are completely determined by the choices made by the parties involved. Unless we have a stated purpose in this prophecy, which I honestly kind of doubt given what I know about the situation here, I'm guessing that any actions we take will be well within the guidelines of whatever the hell this prophecy is about."

"You know that is the opposite of helpful right?" Caitlin said dryly.

Percy shrugged again and rubbed the back of his head nervously, "I know, I don't make the rules though."

Dempsey spoke up, "So if the prophecy doesn't really matter, why tell us at all? Why not just ignore the damn thing and let us go on our own way?"

Percy arched an eyebrow, "And get my ass chewed out later for keeping something like this to myself? Hell no. Besides, it doesn't matter if we care about the prophecy, what does matter is that this Voldemort guy clearly does. That gives us an advantage."

Freeman leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and brows raised, "Bait the bastard?"

Percy's smiled predatorily, "Exactly my thinking." Find the prophecy, steal the thing first and put a fake in its place. Then when Voldemort comes to take it, we blow him and his merry band of assholes straight to Hades." Freeman narrowed her eyes at the expression but didn't say anything.

Caitlin chimed in, "Wait, why is Voldemort even waiting to steal it in the first place? If he is such an un-killable badass, why not just walk in, take the thing and leave?"

Percy nodded at the question, and was about to answer when Freeman beat him to it, "Because to steal the prophecy, one specifically about him and Potter would bring all kinds of hell down on the ministry and get the wrong people asking questions. He isn't ready to wage all out war yet, he's still gathering resources and allies. He won't make his move until he's certain that he is in a position to begin an open conflict with the British ministry. Which reminds me, any idea how long we have until that becomes a reality?"

"Probably close to a year at this rate. I guess his negotiations with the vampires, werewolves, and giants haven't been going as well as he had hoped. He has been successful in drawing out his former allies but there are still a hell of a lot of them locked up in prisons across England and Europe. He probably won't be ready until May or June at the earliest would be my guess." Percy answered,

"So we still have some time to begin prepping." Freeman said, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Even then, how can we be sure that our boy is even going to come and collect it himself? Why not just send some lackey to grab it for him, minimize the risks involved?"

Percy nodded at her, "A good point. First, this guy is like the textbook definition of a megalomaniac and micromanager. He would not trust such an important task to some stoogie. If nothing else, he would at least be on site in order to oversee the operation himself. Second, I have it on VERY good authority that the type of prophecy we are dealing with can only be retrieved by the person or persons who its about. In this case that means either Harry or Voldemort."

Freeman's gaze became cold as ice, "Back up Jackson. You just said that only Potter or Voldemort can retrieve this thing right?" He nodded as both Caitlin and Dempsey's eyes widened in understanding , "Then I hope you have an alternative idea that does not involve a minor stealing a class five magical artifact from the bowels of the British Ministry."

"No that's pretty much my plan" Percy said simply,

"Explain" was Freeman's only reply.

Percy sighed and rubbed tiredly at his face, "Ok, so Voldemort has tried to kill Harry like what, four-five times now? Sends a pretty powerful message doesn't it? This guy will not stop until Harry is dead and gone, that makes this as much his fight as it does ours. Like it or not, he's going to be involved and I all but guarantee that this prophecy will back me up on that."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are trying to indoctrinate a child!" Freeman snarled, her patience finally wearing out. She had been uncharacteristically patient with Jackson ever since his arrival. His authorization by the ICW made him essentially head of the operation, effectively yanking control of her tiny substation out from under her. She did not like having her authority superseded, much less by some gung-ho hotshot, barely out of training. She didn't care what kind of qualifications he had, this kind of reckless cowboy bullshit was exactly how people, specifically innocent civilians got killed.

"I'm not saying that we give the kid a gun and throw him into a den of Death Eaters!" Percy snapped back, his own frustration and stress mounting. "But the kid has a right to hear what this prophecy says, its his life not ours! And I'm not suggesting he goes alone, he has an invisibility cloak and I have my own ways of making myself invisible! I would be there with him every step of the way!" 

His features softened considerably and his tone became more subdued. "Our job is to see to it that the lives of the mortals are safeguarded at all costs. Like it or not that means bringing the kid into the fold at least a little bit. Lord knows that I don't want Harry to be put in unnecessary risk, but that is exactly why I am suggesting we do this now, rather than later. We have an advantage here and we need to exploit it. Besides, the kid has made it this far, I think he has more than proven himself capable."

Freeman gritted her teeth, her hands clenching and unclenching under the table. She took a deep breath, and counted backwards from ten. When she reached four, she was calmer and more relaxed, but not less annoyed. Still, she relented, "Fine, this is your show. But if this goes pear shaped, it's your ass on the line. You got that!"

"Crystal ma'am." Percy said, a grin on his face.

Dempsey rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, "This is all too damn much for this small of a team boss. We have barely made a dent in the records we took from Greengrass and haven't even begun our bugging of the known Death Eaters. I don't suppose there is going to be any chance of us getting backup on this?"

Freeman shook her head, the exhaustion in her own eyes now matching her subordinates. "I called home office today about that very thing. They told me that the ICW wants this kept as small as possible until things go loud. I hate to say it but I kind of agree with them. The Brits can be pretty oblivious but even they would notice if suddenly throngs of magicals with ties to the Magical Intelligence Communities were showing up all over England."

It was then that Percy voiced an idea that had been ruminating in his head for the past few days. "I might have an idea about that…"

Caitlin rolled her eyes, "Of course you do."

BREAK

It had all gone by so quickly. One minute, he had been having another dreadful summer with his relatives, resigned to the idea that he would be spending the next several months completely isolated from the world he so loved. Then the next, he had been attacked by the very embodiment of fear itself, and dumped headfirst into a game of political maneuvering and criminal law. It was enough to make his bloody head spin.

That being said, he could not say that his time at the safe house with Percy and the lovely lawyer Sarah had been unpleasant. Percy, when he was around, was a riot. The man was quick with a joke, or a funny story, and was easy to relate to. He had never been able to bond so quickly with someone before, the fact that Percy was several years Harry's senior didn't bother him, he had always been able to connect better with adults than people his own age. Despite this, he was quite excited to finally be going where he felt he truly belonged, wherever it was that Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and the rest of the Weasley's were hiding out; Percy still hadn't told him the exact place they were going which led him to believe that it was not the burrow. A fact that was further hammered home when instead of firing up a floo, Percy had instead packed up all of Harry's belongings into the trunk of a very large truck.

Percy had been rather right-lipped about the entire ordeal, telling him not to worry and that he would explain everything as soon as they were on their way. But Harry couldn't help the twinge of anxiety build up in the pit of his stomach as he eyed the large vehicle, or the two other black trucks parked up the street that Percy had said would be part of their escort.

"It's not like I'm expecting any actual problems with this, but in this line of work, it was better to be safe than sorry" Percy had told Harry when asked about the extra security. Percy had also explained why they were doing things the muggle way, that the Death Eaters, if they were actually planning something, likely would not expect Harry to be transported by armored convoy like a muggle politician. Harry was inclined to agree, and found that he was surprised by the amount of forethought that seemed to go into just about every action being taken in the name of his safety.

Legal counsel was not all that Harry had been thinking about during his stay with the Americans. He had spent a great deal of time considering the direction his life had taken since discovering the muggle world. While his time with his relative had been by no means a picnic, he had to admit that he had more brushes with death since his admittance to Hogwarts than someone his age ought to have had. He had begun questioning the ability of Dumbledore to actually take care of him, furthermore, he had begin questioning likelihood than any of the adults, sans Arthur, Molly and Sirius, had his best interests at heart.

His professors all allowed him and his friends to be ruthlessly bullied, he could not remember one instance in his last year where Professor McGonagall had come to his aid when he had been completely ostracized by the entire school. She was supposed to be his legal protector while he was away from the Dursley's and yet she had allowed his classmates to relentlessly insult and belittle him. The same had happened in his second year. In fact, no professors, as far as he could recall, ever once came to his defense or aided him in any way. Hell, Snape went out of his way to bully Harry himself. Now that there were people, relative strangers he had to admit, that seemed to be going out of their way to care for him, it really put things into perspective. Was there anyone at Hogwarts he could trust?

He wanted to trust Ron and Hermione, but given their utter silence over the summer, and lack of any kind of information, he couldn't help the sting of betrayal that threatened to turn into something more sinister.

"You're a million miles away kid, what's going on in that head of yours?" Percy's voice jerked Harry out of his musings. He turned his head and looked at Percy, on hand on the steering wheel and the other propped up casually on the window. He looked the picture of lazy relaxation, but Harry thought he knew better. He could tell in the way his muscles would occasionally tense before relaxing, and while he couldn't see under the dark sunglasses on Percy's face, he was willing to bet that they were continually surveying their surroundings for potential danger. Harry knew, they were habits he himself had unconsciously picked up over his tenure in the magical world.

Realizing he hadn't said anything in respond Harry hastened a response, "Just…things." He said rather lamely.

Percy smirked, "Things huh? What kind of things? Are they tall, beautiful, lawyer things?" he teased and Harry felt his ears and cheeks burn in embarrassment. His infatuation with his lawyer was clearly not as subtle as he had thought.

"Shut up" he said as he averted his eyes,

Percy chuckled but his voice gained a bit of a serious edge to it, "Seriously Harry, what's wrong? You're finally getting to see your friends and Sirius again, I figured you'd be over the moon by now." When Harry didn't answer, Percy looked over and realization dawned on him. "Ah, this is about the whole incommunicado thing huh?"

"Huh?" was Harry's intelligent response,

"Your friends not mailing you or whatever, just staying radio silent all summer. You feel pretty miffed about the whole thing don't you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Well, yeah. They're supposed to be my best friends, but they've apparently been together wherever the hell they are, just having good ol' bloody time and I've been stuck here, or tucked away in our little safe house with little to no idea what's going! Voldemort is out there, planning and preparing to come back and I've just been stuck on my arse twiddling my thumbs with no one left to tell me anything!" By the end of his rant Harry had been shouting, the rage and frustration at what he felt was utter abandonment finally spilling out of him all at once. Percy sat quietly and listened. When Harry was done, his chest heaving and his face slightly red in anger Percy finally spoke.

In a quiet, but firm voice he said, "Listen Harry, I get it. You're feeling completely left behind and to fend for yourself at the exact moment you need them the most. Your stressed and have more on your plate than anyone really should. But have you stopped and considered this from their perspective?" When Harry only looked at him in confusion he clarified, "Allow me to explain exactly what has been going on, they are at the headquarters for a paramilitary organization designed to combat Voldemort." Seeing the rising anger and the burst for an interruption Percy raised a hand, "Let me explain before you go off the handle."

"They are not part of the meetings, they do not know what is going on or what we are doing."

"We?" Harry asked,

"Where do you think I've been going every night for the last two weeks? And before you ask, yes I will tell you everything that has been going and where things stand concerning this dark dweeb alright? Now let me finish. Like I said, they have absolutely zero role in the fight, instead they have been cleaning the headquarters. It's Sirius' parents house and is the most disgusting damn place I have ever been in my entire life. And I get it, they may not know what's going on but they still all get to be together right? And yeah, that's not ok, its not fair to you that you have to be stuck by yourself with your friends hanging out together. It's why I pushed so hard to get you over there as soon as possible. They wanted to wait almost another two weeks but I pressed them for today."

"Anyway, what I'm getting at here is this: have you considered things from your friends point of view? They are stuck in a disgusting and creepy ass old home, they're locked out of all interesting meetings and are completely unable to leave the building under the guise of 'Operational Security.' Then the freaking principal of their school-"

"Headmaster"

" _Principal"_ Percy stressed, ignoring Harry's good-natured eye roll. The principal of their school tells them that they can't send their best friend any letters, because if they do, those letters could potentially be intercepted and it could end up killing him." Percy wasn't sure how true that statement was, but felt it was applicable all the same.

"So now they're stuck there, knowing they can't get in touch with you or tell you anything important, just knowing that the minute you see them, you're going to explode. I'm not saying that they're without fault, if they had really wanted to I'm sure they could have gotten in touch."

For a long moment, Harry was silent as he thought over what Percy had said. Part of him, the colder and more logical part of his brain, agreed with the assessment. Even now, with his newfound questioning of the esteemed headmaster, Harry would be hard pressed to have the nerve to say no to an order like that. That was the logical part of him though, his heart was a different matter. He was rightfully pissed at the actions of his two friends. He felt that surely, they should have been able to do something for him, Hermione was one of the most clever people he knew. But then again, she was also blindly devoted to figures of authority and the rules, not mention Ron's own blind devotion for the headmaster. In the end, logic was still losing out to emotion.

"I still don't really understand why it matters why Ron and Hermione left me all alone, the fact remains that they did!"

Percy sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "That's the thing though Harry, sometimes you have to be able to look at things from another person's perspective, understand why they acted the way that they did."

"Even if what they did was dumb and hurtful?" Harry asked, sounding incredulous,

Percy nodded, "Especially then Harry, there will be points in your life when you make mistakes, sometimes that hurts other people, whether its physically or emotionally. When those mistakes happen, you don't want someone to yell and scream at you do you? It just makes you feel worse than you already do. But when you talk to them about it, or consider their side of the argument, even if you disagree with it, it starts a dialogue to hopefully keep the same thing from happening in the future."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window, "That's funny, because it sure doesn't seem like anyone else thinks that way. Every time something bad happens, I'm always the first to be blamed."

Percy nodded in understanding, he understood what Harry was feeling, he had ben there himself all too many times in his own life. But he still wanted to try and impress on the young man the lesson he had been forced to learn himself.

"And do you want to sink to their level? Or do you want to rise above it? It's easy to sink to shouting and name calling Harry, its harder to be calm and rational. But at the end of the day, I think you'll find that your relationships last longer and are more meaningful when you do. A wise person once said that just because something is easy, doesn't mean that it's right."

It was now Harry's turn to sigh. Percy was right and he knew it. He was still frustrated, but was nowhere near the volcano of fury simmering below the surface. "When the hell did you get insightful?" Harry asked,

"First of all, ouch. Second of all I have my moments. They had to get beaten into me, sometimes literally, but I made a lot of mistakes because I spent too much time reacting to something instead of thinking it through. But I was lucky and had people in my life who were more than willing to tell me when I was being an idiot." Percy said, with a pointed sideways look in Harry's direction.

Harry groaned and slouched in his seat, "Why does life have to be complicated, I miss when the hardest part of my life was dodging trolls and flying a broomstick. All of these feelings are a right bastard."

"It's called puberty Harry, have fun."

BREAK

He hadn't heard any shouting since Harry went upstairs, which he figured was good sign that the kid had taken their little heart to heart seriously. Still, Percy couldn't help but be troubled. He had noticed over their time together that Harry would occasionally develop wild mood swings. Mind you, these weren't the typical lashings of a teenager pumped to the gills with hormones, gods above knew he had dealt with that enough to know the difference, no this something different.

It would be the smallest things that would set the young man off, a broken pen while doing homework or a stubbed toe on the corner of the counter. Aggravating to be fair, but not rage inducing. It was a far reach from the psychological evaluation he had been given before hit trip to England. The boy was said to be mild mannered at best, and utterly submissive at worst. These complete one-eighties of mood were disconcerting for Percy. It could be something, but you didn't live as long as Percy, for a demigod, without trusting your gut. When it could be something but might be nothing, it is probably something. Percy added it to the laundry list things he needed to get done.

He was yanked out of his musings by a harsh kick to his shin, only for Sirius to yelp in pain instead of Percy. Turning an amused eyebrow to the fugitive, who was massaging his wounded foot, a cough dragged Percy's attention back to the head of the table. Albus Dumbledore, and the majority of the order, were looking at him expectantly. Percy and Harry had arrived at the headquarters about an hour ago, and Percy had immediately been dragged into a meeting of 'utmost importance'. Apparently there had been an important development in the talks with the giants. The news? That apparently the Order was not alone in its efforts to reach out to the giant chiefs. Like that was any sort of a surprise.

Refocusing, Percy scratched at his ear, "Um sorry, could you repeat that?" he asked, knowing he had been asked a question and had been caught not paying any attention. Dumbledore took it in stride and smiled the way a teacher does to a particularly slow student.

"I was simply inquiring into the nature of your investigation of the attack on both you and young Harry. Have there been any new developments?"

Percy sat up a little straighter in his chair, "So the night after the attack by the Dementors I was jumped coming to my hotel." Now everyone in the room was sitting a little bit straighter, "I took care of the problem with only a few problems." He decided not to mention the car he'd totaled or the hole in the roof of the garage, "Turns out they were hitwizards. One of them was still breathing so I took him to our CP, sorry command post, and we interrogated him. Turns out someone hired these douchers to follow Harry the night of the attack, you know, to make sure the job got done right. We followed the money back to Greengrass and Davis, a couple of our agents uh, convince their CEO to lend us any documents relevant to our investigation. We don't have any names as of yet but we know that it was someone from inside your ministry."

A number of people around the table looked more than a little surprised at the developments, Molly Weasley was the first to comment, "And you didn't deem it important enough to mention that your little" she mimed air quotations, "'safe house' wasn't safe for Harry? He could have been hurt!"

Percy couldn't stop himself from snorting, "Yeah, cause he was so much safer in a neighbor swarming with dementors." He didn't give her a chance to rebuttal, "Listen Molly, this isn't our first rodeo, when we moved Harry we did it carefully, switched cars three times and redoubled the route in two different directions. We weren't followed, and now the kid is here safe and sound."

Molly looked like she wanted to say more, and was halfway out of her chair to do just that, when a calming hand from her suspend gently grabbed her by the shoulder and lowered her back to her seat. She shot an accusing look at Arthur but stayed quite, it was Arthur's turn to talk, "Do you think that one of You-Know-Who's people inside the ministry is responsible? We know that he has more than a few followers in high ranking positions. It wouldn't be out of the question for one of them to have ordered the attack."

Percy shook his head, "We don't think so. It doesn't fit Voldemort's MO. He wants Harry dead by his own hand, he wouldn't send dementors to do it. No, the running theory at the moment is that it's someone likely unaffiliated with the Death Eaters, someone high up on the food chain and probably one of Fudge's people. Only someone close to the minister would the pull to have something like this ordered."

Tonks, who had been relatively silent up until this point said, "I could ask around, I have some friends who work the Azkaban shift. I could poke around, try and see if anyone who shouldn't be there has been poking around the cells and release schedule."

Percy nodded, a smile making its way onto his face, "Thanks, I would really appreciate it."

Kingsley Shackelbolt, a tall and muscular black man, spoke up from the corner, "I will ask around as well. I have a bit more sway over our colleagues than young Tonks." Tonks' hair reddened but she didn't say anything and I nodded my thanks in his direction.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "Wonderful, well then it is getting rather late. I believe for now we will adjourn." The dismissal given, chairs scraped as people began getting up to leave. As Sirius was getting up out of his chair, Percy grabbed him by the arm. Percy motioned to the door with an incline of his head and Sirius nodded reluctantly before Percy followed him out of the kitchen. Once in the hallway he opened a door leading to a flight of stairs. The pair descended into a literal dungeon. Braziers hung on the walls and the scent of mold and mildew filled Percy's nostrils. As they reached the bottom step, the braziers on the wall sprang to life illuminating a completely barren room.

"This was a dueling chamber when my parents still lived here. Perfect place to practice all of the horrible dark curses messed up little psychos could think up. " Sirius explained, "Now, what did you want to discuss?"

Percy turned and looked Sirius in the eye, he was all business. "Do you think that what the Order is doing is going to be at all effective in winning this war?"

Sirius considered the man for a moment before shaking his head. "What we are doing now is exactly what we did fifteen years ago. We are not fighting anything, only reacting purely defensively. When Voldemort makes his return I fear nothing will have changed." Percy nodded as though he had expected that answer.

"I figured you'd feel that way. My team and I have similar issues. We found out today that we won't be able to draw any international support, it would draw too much attention from the British ministry and could potentially show our hand before we're ready. So I had an idea. What would you say to working for me and my people? How would you like to make an actual difference? Instead of sitting in this prison of a home twiddling your thumbs, you would be with us, in the field, actively working to counteract Voldemort's plans."

Whatever Sirius had expected Percy to say, this had not been it. He'd expected the man had simply wanted to vent off his frustrations, maybe rant some more about their inaction. But this? This was something else entirely, this would be going against not just the Order, but Dumbledore himself. Could he really bring himself to go against the man that had sworn to do his utmost to protect him? Unbidden, his thoughts drifted to the boy upstairs, the last living reminder to his brother and all but blood, his godson. He loved that boy, loved him more than life itself and knew that without hesitation, he would lay down his own life if it meant that Harry lived to see a family of his own.

Sirius' fists clenched and his jaw tightened, not in anger, but in steely determination. He raised his head to meet Percy square in the eye. "I'm in, what do we do?"

Percy grinned, "First, you tell me who might be feeling the same way we do. And then? We get to work."

BREAK

Upstairs, away from the plotting of Percy and Sirius, Harry had just finished confronting his friends on what had been happening this summer. When he first saw them, he had been initially overcome with an anger that, now he was calmer, frankly startled him. However, he had forced himself to breathe deeply, and follow Percy's advice. He had willed himself to remain calm and allow them to explain what had been happening and why they had refused to really talk to him. It had been exactly as Percy had told him, and all of the anger he had felt towards his friends disappeared.

Now that he was actively aware of it, he noticed that both Ron and Hermione, even Ginny for that matter, had been braced for what they expected was going to be an explosion of rage. He felt guilt well up inside of him, what can friend was he that his best friends in the world looked scared of him? Percy was right, this wasn't what he wanted at all. He had told them that he had forgiven them, and that none of it mattered because Percy had promised to bring Harry up to speed himself. That and the threesome had endeared themselves as they shared what they did know about the meetings.

"Is that where you've been then?" Ron asked, "With the American?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, taking a seat on the bed next to Ginny, "After the whole dementor thing, he took me to a safe house somewhere outside of London. That's where we've been hiding out, he said it was safer there than it was with the Dursley's." Understatement of the century that was. "Have you lot talked him at all then?"

The three of them shared a look, but it was Hermione who responded first, "Only once, he asked us why we weren't sending you any letters. We told him, and he just left. That's really the only time any of us have ever really talked to him."

"Probably thinks he's too bloody good for us" Ron grumbled,

"No he does not" Ginny said with more heat than Harry was anticipating,

"You're only saying that 'cause you fancy him" Ron shot back and immedietly Ginny's ears went scarlet, whther from embarrassment or anger Harry couldn't tell.

"No I do not!" Ginny Snapped, though her reddening face was quickly dissuading that notion in Harry's mind. He noticed that Hermione too was sporting a bit of a blush and filed that away to tease her for later. "I just think-" Whatever she was about to say way drowned out in a loud CRACK, as a pair of red-headed identical twins suddenly materialized in the bedroom. Ron's brothers, Fred and George.

"Might want to keep it down a bit dearest little sister" One of them said, Fred maybe, "We could hear your delightfully dulcet tones all the way upstairs." The other finished. They turned as one and addressed Harry, "There you are Harry old boy, we had been wondering when you would show up" "Yeah, we but we didn't hear any shouting from you so we thought you musn't have arrived at all"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, and was about to respond but the twins were on a roll and shut him out before he could, "Keep quiet you lot, we've been trying to listen in."

"Listen in?" Harry asked, "To what?"

The twins sported identical grins, "Why the meeting of course" One of them pulled out a large piece of string with what looked like,

"Is that an actual ear?" Harry asked, feeling slightly nauseous,

As one, the twins rolled their eyes, "Of course it isn't" "It's how we've been listening in on the meetings" "Really rather brilliant if I do say so meself" "Now be quiet Harrykins," "and listen" Carefully, one of them opened the door to the bedroom, as the one with the ear launched the ear piece out the door and down the hall, once the ear had been launched the door was closed again.

"So they don't let you into the meetings either then?" Harry asked as one of the twins fiddled with an identical fleshy ear, the twins expressions darkened somewhat,

"No" Fred said, "Mum won't let us, says we're still too young." "Even though she and dad were same age when they joined up" George chipped in.

"They said anything interesting yet?" Ron asked and Fred shook his head,

"Same old shite, talking about meetings and schedules and whatever the hell it is they're guarding, this lot catch you up to speed on that by the way Harry?"

Harry nodded, "sounds like a whole bunch of nothing"

"That's because it is, no actual plans just a bunch nonsense none of us can really work out, we have no idea what they're trying to guard at the ministry but whatever it is we think it's important." George said, still tinkering with the ear.

"We think it's a weapon," Ron said excitedly. Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, Harry just nodded but also chose not to respond, he didn't really believe that Voldemort would really need any kind of a weapon, after all, what was magic if not the ultimate weapon. Especially in the hands of someone like him.

Suddenly the room was flooded with Dumbledore's voice. The group listened intently as the exchange between Dumbledore and Percy went it's course, followed by Percy's recounting of the events leading up to the move, as well as his analysis of who was behind the attack. Harry was suddenly floored, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. Percy believed that someone in the ministry was actively trying to snuff him out? For telling the truth about Voldemort's return, he didn't want to believe it. But, this was the same ministry that had allowed him to participate in the triwizard tournament and had tried to have Buckbeak murdered because of a schoolboy grudge. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, he could see the sense in Percy's analysis.

Everyone in the room was watching him now, looking and waiting to see what his reaction would be, Hermione looked just about fit to burst, as though she wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, scream or an odd combination of the three. The Weasley's just looked, well, grim. As though this evidence of ministry exploitation and repression was not at all surprising and, as far Harry knew, maybe it wasn't.

He was saved from responding to the nonverbal questions when suddenly George swore, yanked on the string, and the pair disapperated from the room with another loud CRACK. Not a moment later, the door opened to reveal Mrs. Weasley smiling in at them and telling them it was time to head downstairs for dinner. Without saying anything, the remaining four followed her out the door and down the stairs. Passing by a large ornate picture frame at the bottom of the stairs. However it wasn't the picture frame that garnered Harry's attention, he hadn't noticed it when he had first entered the gloomy building, too preoccupied with the coming confrontation to concern himself with much else. But now that he had the time to consider it, he noticed there was a long vertical gash in whatever the picture used to be. It looked like someone had run a long knife through the canvas.

A hand on his shoulder jerked Harry out of his musings, looking up he saw the smiling visage of his godfather. "I see you've met my dear old mother."

Harry was somewhat taken aback, "What?" he asked,

Sirius pointed to the painitng, "That" he said, "Used to be a painting of my mother. Awful old bint she was. Would scream vulgarities at anyone not associated with the House of Black, including me mind you, until our new friend Mr. Jackson got a little too annoyed so he-"

"Cut her in half " Percy interrupted, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he walked up behind the pair. "Thought that demented little house elf of yours was going to kill me for it too."

Sirius barked out a laugh, "Probably would have too if I hadn't done anything about it"

Percy shook his, "I could have handled myself just fine, thank you very much"

"I'll believe that when you stop tripping over the troll leg in hallway."

"Oh screw you, Tonks is with me on that one, that damn thing is a tripping hazard"

"Mate, I don't know how to say this, but basing your argument on Tonks being equally clumsy is about as flimsy as my dear old mum's brittle painting."

The two shared a loud laugh at the joke and Harry couldn't help laughing along with them. For the first time in what seemed like years, he felt like he was home. He was with the people that cared about him. He smiled as Sirius directed the trio into the dining room. While the meeting had been over for a few minutes, members were still loitering about, cleaning papers off of tables and talking in small groups. Harry didn't recognize many of the faces in the room, but he wasn't too worried about it. Harry, Percy, and Sirius strode over to a series of empty chairs, and Harry took the one directly across from his old Defense professor, Remus Lupin.

The man looked somehow even more tired and weathered than he had the last time Harry had seen him. Stress lines marred his face and he had dark, thick circles under his eyes. Despite all of this, he still smiled and shook Harry's hand. The two conversed quietly with one another as Percy and Sirius had their own conversation in hushed whispers next to him. As Harry and Remus conversed, the remaining members of the order not staying for dinner steadily streamed out of the room until only a handful were left. As Percy glared a foul smelling man smoking a pipe out of the room, there was only one person left whom Harry did not recognize. He was quickly introduced to Tonks, a woman whom had been in the process of turning her nose into a pig snout for Ginny's amusement.

Dinner turned out to be a rather subdued affair, everyone it seemed was rather hungry. The only conversation had been between Percy and Bill, who had been ribbing Percy for actually staying for dinner for once. After dinner was over, and Harry's belt on his pants was feeling sufficiently tight, Mrs. Weasley rose and announced that it was nearly time for bed.

"Not quite so fast Molly" Sirius said, gaining the room's attention. He turned to Harry, "You know I'm surprised at you. I thought the first the thing you would have done once getting here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

Ignoring the group shudder at the name Harry responded, "Well I did. But Ron and Hermione told me we weren't allowed in the meetings so-"

"And they're quite right!" Molly interrupted, "You're too young." She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius.

"Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen —"

The next several minutes devolved into a drawn out argument that had Percy rolling his eyes. It was the same damn thing week after week, and he was sick of it. He finally tuned back into the conversation when the door slammed violently, and Percy noticed that Ginny, the youngest, had left the room and all eyes were now between Harry and Remus, who had somehow defused the situation. Bless his heart.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," Harry said, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything —"

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," said Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway. . . . And we know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do anyway," said Lupin.

Percy couldn't help himself, he snorted. A little too loudly to mask it as anything and suddenly all eyes were on him. "You had something to add, Percy?" Percy rolled his eyes but sat up straighter anyway, looking at Harry with a look that said, might as well tell you now, he said "We don't know anything we didn't already know. This organization is laboring under the delusions that we have some unique advantages over Voldemort and his people but we don't. All we have are a bunch of names of death eaters we already knew about, and that he's trying to recruit an army of hit-wizards and mixtures of magical creatures from vampires, to werewolves and giants." Glaring at Molly who was beginning to rise out of her chair in anger but stopped at his look, he continued.

"We have a very loose idea of what the bastard wants and that's locked away in the bowels of the ministry. And even then, we know that's a short-term goal, nothing long term. We don't know who's backing him financially, who he has control of in the ministry, what kind of foreign assets he has or what his timeline is for returning. We don't know any of this because the spy we have in their ranks is likely a triple crossing shit slinger who is playing his own game." Percy was of course referring to Severus Snape, who he most certainly did not get along well with.

"I believe that you might be a little overly critical Percy" Lupin said

"This thing that Voldemort wants at the ministry," Harry said, ignoring all of the other things Percy had told him, "What is it exactly, a weapon?"

"No not exactly, rather its something…new" Lupin said, "Something he didn't have last time."

"And you won't tell me what it is then?" Harry asked, It was Molly who responded,

"Absolutely not, I believe enough of this has been said, why I ever let you talk me into letting this happen I'll never know but enough is enough. No more talk weapons or anything else we are done-"

"It's a prophecy" said Percy, looking more serious than Harry had ever seen him look.

"It's a prophecy Harry about you and Voldemort." The room fell silent.

And then bedlam.

 _ **AN:**_ **Holy hell this was a bastard. Sorry about the delay guys but you should know by now that I have no real schedule for these things. Anyways This is easily the longest chapter I've ever written. It was going to be around 2-3 chapters, but I just felt things were moving too slowly as they were. I obviously wanted to develop my ideas and characters, but I didn't want to be stuck at this snail pace forever. Anywhoo, I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was pretty fun to write. Next chapter is the fallout and Harry's court date. I have been waiting for this one folks. As well always let me know what ya think, and thanks for all the love and support.**

 **Love,**

 **LilDB**


	8. Mr Potter Goes to Washington

"You had no right!"

"A spit in the face of everything Dumbledore has been saying."

"The balls on him are impressive. Going against orders like that."

"Completely and utterly irresponsible."

"He has got to be joking. A prophecy? You-Know-Who is after a sodding prophecy?"

Percy waited while the room exploded into commotion. He had wanted to wait to reveal this information to Harry, he wanted to have the reveal in a secure and controlled environment where he would be able to calmly explain what he knew to Harry. However, he had gotten…impatient. All of this nonsensical talk and beating around the bush. It was a waste of time, especially given the nature of prophecies themselves. While Percy didn't know the prophecy itself, he had a fairly good idea, and with how Voldemort was actively pursuing the damn thing too, his theories were more justified. Percy figured that the prophecy likely painted Harry, in some obscure way, as the only person capable of destroying Voldemort and that in the end it would come down to one killing the other.

Nothing all that new or revolutionary there.

Granted, he wasn't sure if that was actually the case but he felt like he was at least partially correct. He also highly suspected that Dumbledore knew the full extent of the prophecy. Someone had to tell it, and someone had to be told, it was just how things worked and since Dumbledore was the one pulling the strings on keeping the prophecy as the Order's high-profile target, Percy was certain the man knew the full thing. For Percy, all of these factors justified his belief that guarding something that their leader already knew was nothing more than a waste time and resources.

Looking over, Percy ignored the others in the room and focused on Harry. When he began speaking again, all of the noise faded. "Like I was saying Harry, it's a prophecy. I don't know the specifics but given what I know of the nature of prophecies, as well as Voldemort's determination in seizing it for himself, I can make a few logical conclusions." Molly looked like she was going to interrupt but Percy slammed a fist down hard on the table, denting the sturdy wood beneath his fist. He didn't need to say anything more as Arthur placed a calm, albeit slightly shaky, hand on his wife's shoulder and guided her back into her seat.

Percy continued like there had been no interruption, "It's my suspicion that the prophecy likely paints you as the person who has to kill him. It will be vague, and confusing but it will be correct. It will also likely say something to the effect of either you kill him or he kills you, there probably won't be much middle ground."

Harry was silent, his face unreadable as he lost himself in thought, it came as no surprise to Percy then, when Hermione was the first to speak up. "I don't understand." she said softly, "Divination is rubbish. There are no such things as prophecies or seeing the future or any such nonsense. How can so many of the most powerful wizards on the planet buy into such nonsense." She was starting to sound a little hysterical. Percy could relate. She had just heard that her best friend was likely the target of something the mist dangerous man in Britain was after and she was trying to process the sudden influx of information in the only way she knew how.

"Given that so many powerful magicals do buy into the power of divination, doesn't that kind of speak to the truth behind its claims?" Percy asked her, "Listen Hermione, believe me I get it. When I heard my first prophecy, I thought it was complete nonsense myself. But these things do have real power. Whether it's a real metaphysical power guided by the fates themselves, or simply the result in people believing strongly enough, prophecies always come true.

"Then why do anything at all if the world is so rigidly set in stone? Are all of our fates predetermined? Do I not get a say in my life? Does Harry not get a say in his?" She questioned.

"There's a reason that prophecies are open ended Hermione. Almost all of them are vague and difficult to accurately interpret. Look I don't know how to explain but how about this, at the end of the day it doesn't really matter what the prophecy does or does not say. Clearly Voldemort knows about it, and to some extent he buys into it. That means that at least part of the prophecy is likely true, and Voldemort is probably hinging his ultimate strategy on what the prophecy says in order to direct him and his forces in the most advantageous way."

"If the what the prophecy says doesn't matter, and everything is going to come to pass regardless, why tell me at all?" Asked Harry, finally speaking up

Percy nodded at him, "Because you deserve to know. Whether you believe in the power of prophecy or not, it wasn't right for this to be hidden from you." He then stared pointedly at Molly, "Just like it isn't right to say that you are not involved in this war." He turned his attention back to Harry, "You have been targeted by this son of a bitch at least four times now, clearly this guy has an axe to grind and he wants to use you as his whetstone. And with you being the subject of a prophecy including the both of you means that you are involved." Percy held his hands up, "Now I'm not saying that you should start training up to become some sort of super soldier or other nonsense. This guy has four decades of experience and who knows what he's done to himself to make his body and magic even stronger. Simple magical training isn't going to put you on his level."

"What I think Percy is saying" said Sirius, "Is that you needed to know all of this. This is your life and we had no right keeping it from you."

Percy agreed, "What he said. I also told you because I'm hoping that with all of this bullshit behind us, we as a group can move on from these stupid and ridiculous guarding assignments for something that ultimately doesn't matter."

"What the hell do you mean by that sonny?" growled Moody, speaking up for the first time.

"I mean exactly what I said. We are wasting time and resources on stupid and worthless assignments that won't ultimately amount to anything."

"That's not exactly fair Percy." Chimed in Bill, "We have been doing more than simply guarding the department. Lupin has been trying to recruit the werewolves-"

"And he's failing"

"Hagrid is off trying to recruit the giants."

"Which is going nowhere"

"And we all have been pushing recruitment."

"Which is going great." Percy snarled, gesturing to the rather empty space around them.

"Are you suggesting that you are more qualified than Albus Dumbledore himself to fight back?" Growled Moody,

"Yes, I am" Percy said simply.

"Young man that might be the single most ignorant thing I have heard you say tonight and that is quite the accomplishment." said Molly, with several murmurs of acknowledgement. Percy ignored her and simply raised a hand,

"You don't believe me. Fine, I get it, I'm an outsider. I've pushed my way into your lives and am challenging what you think you know. I get it. But I just want to reiterate a point I made earlier tonight; we don't know anything about Voldemort's strategy that we could not have guessed ourselves."

"Care to explain that one for me mate?" asked Tonks,

"Let me list off what we know. We know the names of Voldemort's inner circle, courtesy of Harry here as well as just what we know of his numbers in the last war. We know that Voldemort is after the prophecy, granted we might not have known that without Mr. Snape but given Dumbledore's own insistence it would not have been a stretch to understand ourselves. We also know that he is trying to recruit all manners of dark creatures to his side. Again, this is not something we didn't already know since it's the exact same damn thing that he did last time he was in power."

"What is your point Mr. Jackson." Asked Lupin calmly,

"My point." Percy said, "Is that none of that is all that useful. And it's certainly not useful in waging a war. We don't know the locations of the homes of any of the active Death Eaters. We don't have surveillance on their homes or on their businesses. We don't know where their money is coming from."

"Money?" asked Ron, speaking up for the first time, "What does money have to do with it?"

"Everything kid." Percy replied, "How do you think he's winning over the werewolves and the giants? with favors and promises of a grander future? Please they're not stupid. The know what life would be like under the rule of a man like Voldemort. He might be able to bully local wizards and dark creatures to his side but not the international groups." Percy turned to Lupin, "How much were the wolves asking for?"

Lupin shifted in his seat uncomfortably, clearly, he hadn't expected to be called out on this particular embarrassment, "Five hundred-thousand he replied weakly." Heads turned and looked at him in shock, and Percy merely nodded,

"Which means that Voldemort has probably offered at least three hundred if not more. We also don't know when he's planning his breakout."

"Breakout?" asked Bill,

"At Azkaban." Percy clarified,

"Why would he be planning a breakout?" asked Arthur.

"Because all of his most devoted followers are still locked up." grumbled Moody, looking at Percy more appraisingly now. His magical eye shifting quickly up and down as it tracked Percy. "I've been telling Dumbledore for weeks now that we need a regular rotation near the prison but he doesn't agree with me."

Percy withheld a smirk; he could see the looks in the faces of those gathered around the table. They were beginning to think and question more appropriately what they were doing, or rather what they were not doing. Now for the nail in the coffin.

"And finally, the most important question. How do we kill him?" silence.

"What do you mean?" Asked Tonks

"I mean exactly what I said. How do we kill him? Whatever happened the night he disappeared destroyed his body, it should have killed him but it didn't. How? Why? If it was as simple as putting a bullet in his head believe me, I would have got a task force together and we would have dropped the bastard already but clearly, he's done something to give him some protection. So, I'll ask again, how do we kill him?"

There was a long period of silence as those in the room mulled over what Percy had said.

"Well, I mean surely Professor Dumbledore…" Started Molly, but Percy shook his head,

"Even if he did know, why hasn't he said anything? The most dangerous wizard in Britain comes back to life somehow, in some way, and has to use a horrifically old and dark ritual to do it, and we have no idea. Why was that not the first thing discussed when the order came back together, all of this other stuff, the recruitment and the prophecy and protecting Harry, all of that is literally useless if we don't know how to kill the bastard."

Percy stood up, placing his hands on the table, "I'll leave you all with this. You lost the last war, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The Death Eaters had you guys on the run. I've seen the records, I've read the reports; for every Death Eater killed or captured, at least three of yours were taken in return. You were up against the ropes, with the round about to end, and before the bell could ring Voldemort tripped and knocked himself out of the match. You did not win last. You lost. Don't make the same mistakes twice." Percy looked over to Harry and Sirius.

"Harry, Sirius, I need to talk to the two of you in private. Follow me." Harry and Sirius rose from their chairs and followed, leaving the shell-shocked dining room behind. Percy silently led the two to nearby drawing room, and locked the door behind them as Sirius and Harry entered. Turning to face the other two, Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orb. It was about the size of a baseball and see-through. The inside of the ball was filled with a vaporous smoke that constantly collided with the confines of the sphere.

"Here Harry take this." Percy said, passing the orb off to Harry.

Harry tentatively grabbed it, "erm, thank you? What is it exactly?"

Percy smirked, "It's a fake prophecy." at their confused looks, he explained. "Your hearing is in a week. After you're cleared, which you will be, you're going to conduct your first real mission."

Sirius understood first, "You have to be joking. You expect him to sneak down there and exchange them out?"

Percy nodded, "That's exactly what I am expecting. I understand that you have a pretty damn good invisibility cloak?" Harry nodded and Percy turned back to Sirius, "You're going to wait outside the trial room, after Harry is cleared the two of you are going to sneak away, find a bathroom and get under the cloak. You'll need to make your way down to the department of mysteries. Sirius have you been there before?"

Sirius nodded his head shakily, "Yeah, went down there a few times during the last war. Know my way to the hall of prophecies too but mate you can't be serious about this."

"I'm very serious." Percy said, "Listen I scoped out the department of mysteries myself two days ago, it's not guarded or protected at all. It's just sort of there. No one will try and stop you."

"Shouldn't the Ministry have spells or something that can detect people entering and exiting the building? Or won't they know about us down there?" Percy shook his head,

"One of my partners went into the ministry yesterday, had to file for longer leave in country, anyways, while she was there, she did a scan for any enchantments or wards. All of the wards are on the first two levels and that's it. The only heavily defended sector is the Minister's wing and that's at the other end of the building. The two of you will be fine."

Sirius still looked apprehensive while Harry looked excited, Percy put needled Sirius a bit more, "Look, Sirius, you were the one who told me you wanted to get out there and be active in the fight. It doesn't get much more active than all of this. That little orb isn't an ordinary orb, the smoke in there is a highly combustible pyrolysis. When that orb gets smashed into the ground, it's gonna go boom in a very big, very painful way."

"You're going to trap him, Voldemort." Harry said, catching on.

Percy grinned wickedly, "When you know your enemies plans and weaknesses, you exploit the hell out of them."

Sirius was quiet for only a moment, then a broad, feral grin spread across his lips.

"Count me in lads."

BREAK

"Somebody might want to pick up that phone because I bloody well called it." ranted Sarah as she and Harry walked through the halls of the Ministry. The pair had arrived three hours prior to the scheduled time of the hearing. Like Sarah had predicted, Fudge had attempted to circumvent the court process and had rescheduled the hearing for a full Wizengamot session in the trial chambers down below. They had only been made aware of the schedule change because they ran into one Amelia Bones as she was leaving her own office. Madam Bones, the head of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had not been pleased to hear that Harry had not been made aware of the time change.

Stepping into the elevator Sarah placed a calming hand on Harry's shoulder. He had felt tense and nervous all week, and now he was little more than a bundle of stress and nerves. Yes, he was confident in Sarah, and he was confident in Percy, but it was now exceptionally clear to him the highest form of government in magical Britain had it out for him. It was a terrifying realization.

Sarah's hand on his shoulder was a calming presence, and he also felt a subtle pressure on his other arm. Sirius' presence was also something of a godsend. Just knowing that his Godfather was behind him, and had his back, and would be with him throughout this entire ordeal was helping him decompress. So too was the now comforting and familiar weight in his pants pocket. The little bomb in the form of a fake prophecy sat like a stress ball in the recesses of his dress pants. It was a little odd, taking such comfort in a weapon of destruction. But Harry saw it as something else entirely. Similar to his wand, this little bauble was his own first strike back against the man that had taken everything from him.

When Percy had initially told Harry about the prophecy, he had been shell-shocked. Too stunned to properly respond to what had been said. Had he not bore witness to a live and true prophecy himself; he likely would not have believed Percy. But his own experiences with the crazed divination professor in his third year had shifted Harry's own belief in prophecies. Later that night, long after Percy had left, Harry and his friends had talked and discussed everything they had learned. They all came to the conclusion that Percy had been right about a lot. The Weasley's had not been all too happy with the way Percy had treated their mother, but given Molly's temperament and he constant needling of Percy, they were understanding enough. Harry himself had stayed quiet through most of the discussion, opting instead to consider all that had been revealed to him, and he came to rather disquieting revelation.

He was not surprised by the presence of the prophecy, instead, he was oddly relieved by it all. Deep down, he felt that on some level, he always suspected that it would come down to the two of them. To Harry and Voldemort. If Percy was to be trusted, and by this point the man had done nothing but time and again prove himself to be trustworthy, then it was also by order of fate for it. Others likely would be slightly upset by that level of predetermined guidance; they would feel that they had been cheated out of their own free will. Not Harry. No, he felt relieved, relieved that his life was not something simply designed to be painful and harsh but rather, the designs of a madman following the words of some prophecy. He was relieved because the prophecy gave him an outlet. A target for all of his suffering, at the hands of the Dursley's and the school and his classmates. The prophecy had given him something tangible that he could fight. Something he could control.

It was comforting.

He was pulled from his thoughts as they approached a large wooden door.

Sarah turned and smiled down at him, "Alright Harry, this is it, just stick to the game plan and everything will turn out alright. We've been over this a million times. Shouldn't take us more than fifteen minutes." Harry gave her a shaky smile.

As she turned to open the door, Harry felt a pressure on his shoulder again and heard his godfather whisper, "Knock 'em off their arses kid. See you in a bit." Smiling, Harry follows his barrister through the door and into the chamber.

It was a large circular room. A large row of stands towered over him at the other end of the room. The stands were still filling with the plum colored witches and wizards of the Wizengamot. In the middle of the chamber was a single chair high-backed chair. Around the legs and arms of the chair were large, rusty chains that left Harry feeling more than a little tense.

"Un-fucking-believable. It's a full damn criminal trial not a damn underage hearing." Muttered Sarah, more to herself than to Harry. "I am going to ruin this man"

Their attention was taken away from the chair and drawn upwards as the sound of a gavel echoed throughout the large chamber. Looking up, Harry watched the squished, portly face of Minister Cornelius Fudge glared down at him.

"With all members of the Wizengamot now present, as well as the accused, we may now begin. The accused may take his seat."

"This is a disciplinary trial for the use of underage magic, my client is not on trial for murder and as such will not be treated as such. He will not be sat upon a binding chair meant for Death Eaters." Sarah's voice rang out loudly throughout the chamber.

Fudge glared menacingly down at the woman, "I am very sorry madam; however, this is a closed session of the Wizengamot and you must leave the premises immediately."

Sarah glared back, just as fiercely, "No I will not vacate the premises. I am Mr. Potter's legal defense in this trial and I will not be going anywhere."

"I was not aware that the accused had filed for legal defense."

"And I was not aware that the Ministry of Magic was making a habit of treating fifteen-year olds to a full criminal trial for underage magic." Snarked back Sarah, one brow raised mockingly. "Nevertheless, I filed myself as Mr. Potter's legal defense weeks ago. Whether or not your office bothered to send an inquiry to Madam Bones' office is not my problem."

Fudge spluttered in indignation but was saved from responding when Madam Bones spoke up, "The Defense is quite right Minister. I have all of the proper paperwork filled out here." she passed over a stack of documents she had taken out from a briefcase, "and there are copies filed and sealed in my office upstairs." She turned and addressed Sarah, monocle squinting as she glared down, "However I will remind the defense that this court practices civility and courtesy."

Sarah nodded, "I only ask that I and my client be treated the same." Madam Bones nodded, and with a wave of her wand a large oak desk and two high-backed, cushioned chairs appeared in front of Sarah and Harry. Sarah nodded reassuringly at Harry and the pair took their seats. As Sarah began unpacking her bag Madam Bones spoke again, "Now that we have that taken care, Minister if you would please begin."

Fudge openly gaped at her, "Now see here Amelia-" he began, finger raised a flush around his ears,

"Minister I have a lot of work to get done today and would like to have this taken care of quickly." Madam Bones interrupted.

Turning an ugly shade of red, Fudge spun away from her. In a desperate bid to reassert himself he banged the gavel once more. "'Very well,' said Fudge. "Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,' said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, 'into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

"-Witness for the defense Sarah Amelia Rosthein" said Sarah sharply,

"Ah yes, of course, the squib," sneered Fudge before clearing his throat and continuing. He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy." "You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?' Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

Harry glanced at Sarah who nodded and said, "Yes"

"You received an official warning from the Ministry three years ago for using illegal magic did you not?"

Sarah put a hand on his arm as a signal not to interrupt. "I fail to see how that is pertinent to the hearing today minister."

Fudge glared down at her, "It is pertinent, because the accused has a long history of performing magic illegally outside of school, why two years ago, he even blew up his Aunt like balloon."

Sarah raised one perfectly manicured brow, "An incident which I recall you personally excusing as a case of accidental magic. I happen to have the memory with me, as well as the memory of the first incident, which incidentally was because of a rogue house-elf, if the court does not believe me." she said, holing up a pair of vials with thin string-like tendrils floating on the inside. Prior to Harry leaving the safe-house, Sarah had taken Harry to a professional legilimens, which Harry learned was something like a mind-reader, who took the aforementioned memories out of Harry's head.

The court began to mutter to themselves at Sarah's proclamation. Fudge's grip on his gavel was so tight that Harry was certain he might break the hammer in half. Slamming the gavel down hard, the chamber quieted down again.

"We do not have the time to waste on potentially falsified memories."

"The memories were procured by Augustus Hammersmith himself. We can call him in if you wish, I asked him to come along today."

Through gritted teeth Fudge growled out, "That will not be necessary. It is irrelevant either way. Mr. Potter did you or did you not conjure a Patronus on the night of the second of August."

A look, and a nod. "Yes I did."

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes,"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes,"

The witch with the monocle cut across him in a booming voice. "You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry,

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"A-what?" said Harry. Looking to Sarah in confusion.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say; it was more than vapor or smoke?"

"Yes," said Harry, "it's a stag, it's always a stag."

"Always?" boomed Madam Bones. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I've been doing it for over a year."

"And you are fifteen years old?"

"Yes, ma'am"

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, ma'am,"

"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at him, "a true Patronus at his age...very impressive indeed." Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was,' said Fudge in a testy voice, 'in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

Sarah chose then to interject, "Minister you are willingly excluding important information. The "Muggle" in question, just so happens to be Mr. Potter's cousin by blood. Someone who has known about our world for the last four years. And according to article 13 of the statute of secrecy, as well as paragraph D under the law for underage magic, it is not against the law for magical accidental or otherwise to be displayed in front of a blood relative nonmagical, or a nonmagical entity who has knowledge of magic."

Fudge was too busy with his impression of an overripe tomato to respond, so the squat, toad faced woman to his left spoke up instead. "It is of no concern whether or not Mr. Potter practiced magic in front of his cousin or not." she said in such a simpering sweet voice that Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to vomit in his mouth, or outright curse the woman. "What does matter is that Mr. Potter felt that he was excused from the rules, and illegally performed a Patronus charm outside of school."

Fudge cleared his throat and nodded in what he seemed to think was an esteemed manner, but left him looking more like a dog shaking out his mane. "Yes, yes, indeed. Quite right Dolores, Quite right indeed. The accused broke the law, no excuses, he's even just admitted to it himself." There was more murmuring among the members of the chamber.

Clearing her throat and saying loudly over the voices, Sarah said, "According to paragraph H, subsection 22 of Article 5 of the 1875 Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, as well as the section 13, subsection 9, paragraph C of International Statute of Secrecy, underage witches and wizards are allowed to perform magic outside of school when their lives, bodies, or souls are at great risk or peril."

"And what great risk or peril could Mr. Potter have possibly faced in Little Whinging?" simpered the toad faced Umbridge.

"Dementors." said Sarah simply.

"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"Ah," said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

"I don't understand" Said Madam Bones,

"Don't you, Amelia?" said Fudge, still smirking. "Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient ... so it's just your word and no witnesses…."

"As a matter of fact," said Sarah a smirk making its way onto her lips in spite of herself. "We do have a witness. Other than Dudley Dursley that is. Why don't I go ahead and fetch him?"

All of the air seemed to leave Fudges body all at once as he all but sagged into his seat, the look of a man bereft all he had treasured most, "I'm afraid that we do not have the time to deal with inconsequential tarradiddles, I want this over with quickly."

"Do I need to report to the International Confederation of Wizards that Magical Britain is denying its citizens, underage ones especially, their national and international rights to due process?" Called out a voice from the back of the chamber. As one everyone in the chamber turned to look at the new arrival. Swiveling in his chair, Harry openly gaped as Percy Jackson strode towards him and Sarah. It wasn't Percy's appearance that had surprised him, he had been their trump card after all, but rather it was what he was wearing. It was an incredibly formal blue suit. Shiny gold lapels sitting upon his shoulders, and a cadre of medals sitting atop his right breast. It looked to Harry almost like an all blue version of the uniform the American Marines had worn when the President of the United States had visited Britain when Harry was younger. It had been one of the few times Harry had been allowed to watch the television and Harry had watched and listened as his Uncle ranted and raved about the foreign president.

"Who the devil are you?" demanded Fudge, a vein in his neck so large and obtrusive that it looked ready to rupture, "How many times must we insist that this is a closed session."

"This," said Sarah, "Is Special Agent Perseus Jackson of the United States Department of Special Investigations and Guardian Agent for the International Confederation of Wizards. He is also the defenses witness to events in question."

Percy nodded his head at the assembled witches and wizards in greeting, before removing the smart looking cap from the top of his head.

Fudge was apoplectic, "You mean to tell me that the ICW had one of their agents in our backyard and did not alert us!" he raged, "How dare they!"

"I believe." Boomed Madam Bones, cutting across Fudge's ranting, "What the Minister is inquiring, is why were you in our country, Guardian Jackson?"

Percy smiled up at the woman, "I was not here on business Madam Bones." he said, and the woman started, slightly surprised the young man knew her name, "Therefore I did not need to alert your government that I was here. I was merely in the neighborhood. I had plans to visit an Aunt of mine, Miss Hestia Olympiad, she lives in number 14 of Privet Drive, when the events in question occurred, I simply intervened.

"And what did happen exactly?" Questioned Madam Bones, once again speaking over Fudge. "I was walking down the neighborhood; it was my first time there so I gotta admit I was a little lost." Percy said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassed. Harry couldn't help but marvel at how easily the lies were falling from the man's mouth, "I was just passing number 6 when I felt it."

"Felt what exactly?" Demand Fudge,

"A very unnatural cold."

"An unnatural cold? Is that really the best you can-"?

"Cornelius!" roared Madam Bones, "Allow the guardian to finish or so help me I will motion for a mistrial and file this hearing with the ICW themselves." What little color was in Fudges cheeks drained as he shut his mouth.

"Thank you, ma'am." Percy said, sending a very charming grin up at the woman whose cheeks colored slightly, "As I was saying, I felt a very unnatural cold fall over the area. It was strange because Britain had been going through that bad heat wave at the time. I remember it was damn near boiling so for it to suddenly feel like the middle of fall was not normal. That's when I began to feel them."

"The Dementors, you mean?" questioned Madam Bones,

"Yes Ma'am, I've been trained to feel them and recognize their presence. First comes the cold, then comes the feelings of dread and utter despair, followed by the memories of your worst nightmares." Everyone in the chamber grimaced, they were all too intimately familiar with the effects of pseudo demons.

"I recognized the feelings immediately, and began to try to locate the source. I didn't have to look very far because that's when the screaming began. I followed the noise and stumbled upon Mr. Potter attempting to fend the dementors away from him and his cousin. Mr. Potter had managed to summon a Patronus and was fending off one the creatures, but the other was advancing on Mr. Dursley. I brought the creature's attention to myself and I killed it-"

"Excuse me. Did you just say that you killed a dementor?" Asked a very incredulous Madam Bones. "I did Ma'am." Percy said,

"How in the seven hells did you do that?" asked Fudge, looking more curious than anything else.

Percy shrugged and Harry watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an average looking pen. Average until Percy uncapped it, and then a three-foot sword sat in its place. The chamber fell silent as they tried to process what they were looking at. Capping the sword, Percy tucked it away back into his pants pocket.

"If you still don't believe me, I can supply you with a memory. But if you check with the roster at Azkaban don't be surprised to find yourself missing a dementor."

"This...this is…I can't….it's just so absurd…" stammered out Fudge. "It's all too much to believe. Dementors away from the prison, a sodding Guardian in Britain, I just can't believe it."

"Cornelius." Said Madam Bones rather gently, "That man is a Guardian of the ICW. Do you hear me, a GUARDIAN. If he says that he saw dementors in Little Whinging, then there were dementors in Little Whinging."

"Yes…yes…of course…I…I just…um right erm in light of this new evidence, I erm I believe that a vote is in order. Those in favor of conviction?" Only one hand rose, that of the squat, toad-like woman to Fudge's side. "Those opposed?" Every other hand, Fudge's included, rose into the air. "Right, then, the accused is cleared of all charges. This hearing is dismissed." With that the gavel banged against the block.

An enormous weight lifted off of Harry's chest. He had been so nervous coming into today but Sarah and Percy had been utter brilliance. Smiling broadly, he stood up and embraced Sarah tightly ho laughed loudly and embraced him back.

"I told you we'd win Harry." The charming woman laughed,

Harry pulled away, his grin plastered to his face, "I know, I know. I just-I can't thank you enough." he said. He felt out of breath and slightly light-headed.

"It was nothing Harry. C'mon, I'll take you home." Harry shifted uncomfortably, looking back he glanced over at Percy, who had approached the bench was now speaking to Madam Bones in hushed tones.

"Um actually, Percy wanted me to stay after. I think he has a meeting with Madam Bones but I'm going to wait for him and leave later if that's alright?" he asked.

Sarah just smiled broadly at him and gave him another hug. "Of course, kiddo, come and visit me again before you head off to school yeah?" She then looked over again at Percy her eyes glazing over slightly, her grip unconsciously growing a little tighter on Harry's shoulder, "And tell Percy to come visit me later tonight. There's some…stuff…I want to talk to him about." Harry just nodded, confused, and smiled again as his lawyer waved him goodbye.

Looking back over his shoulder he watched as Percy and Bones were still wrapped up in their talk. This was his moment, he remembered seeing a bathroom not too far from the chamber on their way down. Steeling his nerves, and taking comfort in the knowledge his Godfather would be with him. Harry left the hall, preparing himself for what came next.

 **AN: Holy Buckets ok sorry for the long break but I hope the wait was worth it for this one. This bastard took a couple of attempts before I had something I was relatively satisfied with. There was a lot of talking and exposition in this chapter, I understand that, but I tried to make the courtroom scene fun and exciting for you. I really enjoyed Sarah, like a lot. She's fun to write. Expect to see a little more of her in the future. I've been getting a lot of great feedback on this, and I just wanted to thank everyone for the love and support. It means a lot. Hope you guys have an awesome day/night, let me know what ya'll think, and keep being awesome!**

 **Love**

 **LilDB**


	9. Oh, So That's How That Works

"Agent Jackson, please make this quick I'm a busy woman and this morning's little charade certainly hasn't helped."

Percy's first impression of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was that if he hadn't known better, Percy would swear that she was a daughter of Athena. All business with a glare that would make even Annabeth quiver in her place. More than that Percy could feel the aura of raw magical power coming off of the woman that spoke to the skill needed to attain such a high-level government position.

"Of course, ma'am" said Percy, "First I must ask. Is this room completely secure? What I need to discuss is vitally important." Amelia Bones stared at him for a long moment before she raised a wand and tapped a seemingly random portion of her desk. From the point her wand touched, a rune came to life and a buzz of magical energy swam through the room.

"Speak" said the woman calmly,

Instead of immediately answering Percy reached down to the bag on the floor and grabbed hold of a laptop. Much like most of the equipment Percy was allowed to use, it charged with enough runes to keep it running in highly magical environments. Opening the laptop, Percy launched the video program and pulled up his interview with Potter. Hitting the play button, he spun the laptop around so that it was facing the department head. He sat there and waited and watched as the woman witnessed the interview. Her expression was completely unreadable, except for the slight hardening of her eyes, and the clenching of her jaw. Percy heard the end of the exchange and waited as the woman processed what she saw.

After several moments of prolonged silence, she finally spoke "So you lied in the chamber this morning." It was a statement, not a question. And Percy did not miss how the woman did not for even a second question the validity of what she had seen. He knew that the highly intelligent woman in front of him must have had her own misgivings about what was going on in her country and Percy likely just confirmed every worst of hers. Percy nodded, "Care to explain why an agent of the ICW was operating in a foreign government without proper notification?" Her voice had a hard edge and Percy knew he was treading on careful ground; he also knew that he needed to hammer out the pecking order with madam Bones.

"Ms. Bones," said Percy, making sure to address her without the use of her proper title, "As you are no doubt aware there is no law stating that agents of the ICW have to notify foreign governments of international agents operating in house. It is merely a formality, a formality I had no intention of extending given the state of things in this country." Percy's voice had grown a hard edge to it, one he hadn't used since his time in the last war, "My job was to determine the validity of a potentially real threat to the international supernatural community, one that I would not have had to do if your department had not done their job in the first place." That was a particularly low blow, Percy knew very well that Bones' hands were very likely tied by higher powers on that account but he had a point to prove.

"Now Madam Bones," he said, including her title again, "I am here, in your office today, as a show of goodwill. The council of elders are on my side. They believe in my findings and we are working on getting a full hunting license for our operation but I want your support. My operation here is small, and we have a limited opportunity here before our big bad wises up and goes public. I have spent the last few months working with Albus Dumbledore and his little group of rebels." Bones snorted at that, "I take it that you are aware of the groups existence?"

"It is the most poorly kept secret in national intelligence. I can name at least two of my aurors who are playing for the other team. What is your point Mr. Jackson?" Percy didn't miss her lack of the use of his title.

"My point, Madam Director, is that after spending time with Dumbledore I have to the realization that with him at the helm Britain has lost the war before it has even begun."

"And what do you propose to do then Mr. Jackson?"

"I propose a partnership Ma'am." She rose an eyebrow at that, "My operation is, but at the moment it's too small to get anything done. I'm working on…expanding our operation, bringing individuals into the fold as it were. I want you as part of that fold."

She was now glaring at him, sitting straighter in her high-backed chair, "What you are proposing mister Jackson, sounds an awful lot like treason against the ministry."

Percy was in dangerous waters now, his next pitch would either result in an ally, or spells being thrown, "Listen, Madam Bones. I'm just going to be honest with you here, war is coming to Britain, it is not a matter of if but when. Look, I've been over the numbers in the last war. It wasn't pretty for the good guys. You were caught flat-footed against an opponent with time, resources and charisma. Right now, is our time, while he is out there trying to garner support. You have the opportunity to spear-head the counter offensive. To be ready and waiting so that when this son of a bitch pokes his pale ass out from under his rock, you are sitting there, ready to drop fifty mega-tons of magical whoopass. My team has the full backing of the ICW, we have a blank check to do what needs to be done in order to end this thing before it even begins. Do not make the same mistakes as your predecessors. Be something greater."

Madam Bones soaked in his information. Reaching under her desk, she withdrew a pair of glasses and a bottle of what Percy knew to be firewhisky. He withheld a smirk; Percy knew that he had her now. He waited as she poured two fingers each, and slid one of the glasses over to Percy, who took it and raised a silent toast to the woman before downing a shots worth in one go. He fought down the raising feeling of fire in his stomach.

"Say that I go for this. What exactly is it I would be signing on for, because right now you have done a lot of talking, without actually telling me anything? What would we be doing?" Madam Bones asked as she sipped on her own drink.

Percy smiled over his drink, "To start with, basic reconnaissance. The who, what, and where. My people have a general idea of some of the big-time names and players involved, but we don't know their home addresses, their businesses who they meet with, where they spend their time when they're not at the office or at home. We need to find out where the money is coming from, the bad guy is trying to recruit foreign magical talent and magical creatures, that is going to cost money. The sooner we found out where that money is coming from, the sooner we plan to put a stop to it."

"And once we have all of this information. Then what, we sit on it?"

"Not necessarily, it's a tricky thing, we don't want to press him before he's out in the open. We do that, and he'll circle the wagons and be back underground before we can blink."

"Seems like an awful lot of speculating on when he's going to reappear." Bones said, eyes narrowing,

Percy smirked, "Then it's a good thing we know exactly what he's after."

Bones raised an eyebrow, "And what is that exactly."

Percy set his drink down and crossed his arms, staring at her.

"I'm sorry ma'am but I'm going to need a little more than good faith before I divulge anything more."

Madam Bones' eye s narrowed, the monocle covering one eye cutting deeply into in her eye, "I have placed a considerable amount of faith in you by simply listening to you here and now. I believe I am due a little trust on your end."

"And with all due respect madam," countered Percy, knowing full he was about to be very disrespectful, "You don't seem to grasp the precarious situation I have had to place myself in. My colleagues did not want me to come to you. I told them that you could be trusted, that you would see what was going to be needed to be done in order to win. However, I cannot, in good faith, divulge vitally important intelligence without some kind of confirmation that not only what we are discussing will remain confidential. But that you are also willing to take an equal risk in vowing your support!" Percy was getting heated now, this conversation was not going how he had hoped it would. For a moment he had thought that he had won the woman over to his side, but she was overly stubborn. Part of him understood and respected her reluctance, he would likely have acted similarly had the situations been reversed. But he was also frustrated that he had, in good faith, put forth clear evidence of the return of an international terrorist and the woman was fighting him for her support.

Percy breathed in deeply, and let out a slow breath, calming himself down as his instructors had taught him. It was time for another gamble. He didn't know if the woman would know or understand the gravity of what he was going to do but if she did, he knew that this would be what won the woman over to his side completely. "I swear upon the River Styx, that all I have told you thus far is accurate to the best of my knowledge. I also swear that I act only in the best interest of Britain and her people as well as the international magical community as a whole."

There was a pause, and then a tremendous clap of thunder signified the truth behind Percy's vow. The Department Head's mouth fell open in utter astonishment. Gone was the calm demeanor of the head of crime fighting division of the British ministry, and in her place was a gawking tuna fish.

"You-you're, but how…I had no idea, and an agent of the…merciful merlin you're serious…I don't…" babbled Bones incoherently.

Percy nodded, "Glad we're on the same page now. Got to be honest, didn't think that you would understand what that meant but I am happy to know that some of the old legends made it this far out." Bones only nodded, still too dumbfounded to respond, "I hope you also understand now the greater risks I have taken in confronting you." It was a calculated risk. Percy couldn't risk giving away information about the prophecy and what he knew about Voldemort until he knew had Bones in his corner. What he could do, however, was give up personal information about himself. Offer up some very personal, and potentially volatile knowledge as a peace offering. A showing that he was willing to work with the woman, and that their relationship would not be a one-sided affair.

Percy allowed the department head to collect herself. When she had seemingly gotten over her shock, she removed her monocle and rubbed tiredly at her face. "Ok," she said, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose, "Ok, ok. I'm in. Alright, I'm in. Now what exactly is going on and do you have a concrete plan?"

Percy leaned back and resisted the urge to smirk, "Well might as well start with the bad guy. Long and the short of it is we know that Riddle, that's his name by the way, is working on recruitment and infiltration. He's trying to get his people into as many high-level positions in your ministry as humanly possible. We also know that he has made contact with five werewolf packs, three vampire covens and currently has ambassadors in the Alps attempting to recruit giant clans. There isn't much we can do to combat that except track down Riddle's financial backers and work on either eliminating them or seizing the funds ourselves. I've been working with Moody-"

"Alastor is working for you?" Bones interrupted,

"Not really," Percy shrugged, "He's in Dumbledore's corner for now. But I am working on converting him. Anyway, we've been working on convincing Dumbledore to get additional guard rotations on Azkaban."

"Ah." Bones nodded, "That makes sense, it figures that Riddle would want his most devout followers out of prison."

"Exactly, I'm not sure what you can do on that front except perhaps begin keeping added security at the island. It would tip off Riddle but he knows that we have people inside the aurors office, we might be able to leak some false intel that the ministry believes someone is planning a break out."

"A good idea, the Minister has been pushing me for leads on the Black case. We can leak that we received word he was planning a breakout at Azkaban. I'd get the clearance I need for the prison and the Minister is none the wiser."

'Only problem with that is Riddle knows that Sirius is on our side. Also, gonna need to break the news on that one to Bones here at some point. Whatever, one thing a time.' Percy thought to himself as he said, "That'll work. Anyways, all of that is second fiddle to Riddle at the moment. What he's really after is a prophecy in your department of mysteries."

"What?!" She shouted, standing up and slamming her hands on the table, and not for the first time during their conversation, Percy was glad he had slapped his own privacy ward down under the table before the conversation began. He would have to remember to thank Caitlin for her portable privacy wards.

Percy waved off the woman's concerns with a dismissive hand, "Relax ma'am, it's being taken care of as we speak." Bones stopped hyperventilating and stared at Percy, her gaze icy,

"You had best explain what you mean by that son." she said, her voice little more than a whisper, Percy met her gaze evenly; he didn't like playing this alpha game bullshit but he had to prove to this woman he wasn't about to be intimidated or kowtowed. "I have two of my people retrieving the prophecy as we speak." glancing at his watch, he noted that roughly fifteen minutes had passed, he guessed that Harry and Sirius likely had the prophecy by now. "And I'd wager that by now, they have it in their possession and are already hightailing it out of here."

Bones closed her eyes as she visibly shook. "You mean to tell me, that you had foreign officers infiltrate my building, the head of my government, and stole government property?"

Percy narrowed his eyes, "Yes, I did. And don't play coy with me, you and I both know that the British ministry has no legal claim to prophecies."

"That doesn't excuse the fact that you have foreign agents breaking into the bloody ministry!" Roared Bones, Percy stood up and towered over the woman. "We've been over this Bones. I couldn't wait on this, the sooner we got our hands on that prophecy the sooner, I can begin working on a counter offensive for Riddle. I apologize that I didn't run this by you but until literally two minutes ago I didn't know you would play ball!" Percy took a calming breath and tried to center himself, "Listen, I promise, moving forward I am going to be keeping you in the loop. You will be appraised of all operations as they happen. But this was not something I could wait on."

Bones continued to glare at Percy, then finally, her shoulders sagged in defeat. Sinking back into her chair the minister poured another drink, a full glass this time. Percy watched as the brought the liquor to her lips and downed half the glass in one gulp. "All right, just so that I am clear, the greatest threat to Britain's national security since the blitz is alive and at our doorstep, the ICW is conducting counter-intelligence operations in my backyard, and I have the literal son of a god in my office. Any other bombshells for me tonight Jackson?"

Percy sat back and thought hard on what to do. She was on board which meant he could begin outlining his plan to the woman, but he also needed to bring her up to speed with everything else if this was going to work. 'To hell with it' he thought, he had already told the woman he was a demigod. 'In for a penny, in for a pound he thought.' "Well," he started, reaching for the whisky himself, deciding that he would start simple and work his way up to his endgame, "Since I'm trying to be transparent about things, there's something you should know about Sirius Black…"

BREAK

"Bloody hell they've been in there a while." Tonks murmured under her breath as she stole another glance towards the closed office door. It had been nearly an hour since Director Bones and Percy Jackson held a closed door meeting in Bones' office.

"Who's been where a while?" came a soft voice from her left. Tonks jumped in her chair and turned, seeing her friend and fellow junior auror Hestia Jones.

"Merlin's salty sack Hest!" said Tonks, turning a glare on the taller woman, "Need to put a bell on you."

Hestia just smirked and leaned closer, "That would ruin the fun. Now stop beating around the bush. Who's in there with the Director?"

Tonks spared a quick glance around them to make sure no one was eavesdropping, before leaning in to her friend as well. "Jackson went in there with Bones an hour ago and they still haven't come back out."

Hestia's face creased in confusion, "Who is Jackson?"

Tonks rubbed tiredly at her face, "Right. Forgot you haven't been to the last several meetings. He's a new guy to the book club." She said, using the agreed upon cover for the Order. "He's new to the area from the States. Some kind of expert but he's been raising all kinds of hell. Told HP what was going on."

Hestia raised her eyebrows; she had only been with the Order for a few weeks but even she knew that rule one around the Order was to leave Harry in the dark about what they were guarding. Dumbledore had insisted that it was in Harry's best interest. That it was the Order's job to ensure that Harry lived as normal a life as he possibly could. In several ways, Hestia respected the idea. This was a war, and as such no place for a fifteen-year-old. However, she Hestia also felt, rather strongly as well, that the Order had no business dictating important aspects of Harry's life. Hestia knew how she would react if something so crucial and potentially life-altering such news could be. She would probably never be able to forgive the people who kept such knowledge from her.

"He certainly seems like a bold one." she murmured,

Tonks nodded, a big smile on her face. "Should have seen the fit Molly threw, thought she was going to hex him."

"What happened?" Hestia asked, Molly's temper was something of a legend.

Tonks' smile only grew, "Shut her the hell down that's what. Bloody hell, wish you'd have been able to see it."

Hestia smiled wickedly. She and Molly Weasley did not have a pleasant history. She had thought that Hestia and her son Charlie had been fooling around in their sixth year and Molly had sent her a howler in the middle of the Great Hall. Hestia had been so embarrassed that she had refused to show her face to classes for an entire week. "I think I'd rather like to meet this Jackson." she purred.

Tonks rolled her eyes at her friend but kept her smile. "That's not even the best part." She said, "He's fit as hell too."

Hestia gave her friend a dry look, "You'll excuse me if I reserve the right to form my own judgements on that one. Your taste in men is questionable at best."

Tonks smirk vanished, "The hell does that mean?"

"Remus." was Hestia's dry remark and immediately Tonks' face reddened in embarrassment and her hair changed to a shock of bright red to match.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." stammered out Tonks, turning away

"Sure you don't luv." chuckled Hestia,

Tonks looked like she was ready to retort but was cutoff as the door to Bones' office opened. The director stepped out first, still dressed in her robes from the Wizengamot, following behind her could only have been this Jackson guy that Tonks was so excited about. And now that she got a good look at him, she had to agree with the assessment. Standing at roughly 1.9 meters tall he was muscular, not quite like a bodybuilder but more like an Olympic swimmer. Broad shoulders narrowing down a large chest to a narrower waist. His face was angular and handsome, with a few days of stubble on his chin that rounded out his grizzled features rather nicely.

Hestia watched as Jackson and Bones shared a few parting words, then without another thought, the handsome man turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the office. "Jones, Shacklebolt, Tonks! My office, two-minutes!" shouted Bones, before turning back and walking briskly back into her office.

Hestia and Tonks shared a look, before scampering out of Tonks' workspace. Kingsley met them at the door and held the door open for the two women. Walking into the office, Bones conjured two additional chairs and the three aurors took a seat. Once the three were situated, Bones activated the same rune she had used earlier to ensure absolute privacy.

Folding her hands in front of her, Bones leveled a glare at three aurors in front of her, "Today has been mentally and emotionally exhausting and I am in no mood to beat around the bush so I'm just going to be blunt about it. I am aware that the three of you are part of the Order of the Phoenix." Kingsley, Tonks, and Hestia all stiffened in their seats but stayed quiet. "Relax." said Bones as she waved a dismissive hand, "You aren't in any trouble. Now, I just had a very interesting conversation, since I know you know the man who was just in here, I'll spare you the details and just confirm that I am indeed now aware of the resurrection of You-Know-Who."

Bones sat back for a moment to allow the three in front of her to digest the information, finally after a minute Kingsley spoke up, his low, rumbling voice loud in the still room, "So what happens now ma'am,"

"Well, Agent Jackson presented me an interesting proposition. A little international cooperation so to speak. After everything he told me, I am in agreement with him and the ICW. We have an opportunity to catch You-Know-Who flat-footed. I will not allow history to repeat itself. As such you three will be working directly with the USDSI and ICW to bring down the Dark Lord."

"Ma'am," said Kingsley after he regained his composure, "With all due respect, we have already been doing that. The Order of the Phoenix was founded to combat the Dark Lord and his forces. How is this going to be any different than what we have already been doing?"

Bones didn't have to answer, Tonks did that for him, "Shack have you not been listening in at the meetings? Percy has made it pretty clear that he doesn't agree with Dumbledore's approach to things." Hestia gave her friend a look but decided not to say anything. She hadn't been to the last few meetings and didn't think she had a reason to chime in. "I'm guessing what Madam Bones is saying is that we are about to be taking a much more active role in the war."

Bones nodded her head in affirmation, "Tonks is correct. Jackson has informed me of what the Order has been doing, and I completely agree with him. Guarding a prophecy is a waste of time and resources, especially since it has already been stolen."

"What?!" the aurors exclaimed, Shacklebolt shot up out of his chair, fear and incredulity on his face. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"Would you just relax." commanded Bones, "Jackson's people took care of it. By now the prophecy is already with Potter."

What little color was left in Shacklebolt's face drained of it. "Get over it Shacklebolt, it's done. Believe me, I was no happier when Jackson told me but it's too late to do anything about it."

Shacklebolt simply collapsed back into his chair, rubbing tiredly at his temples, "I already immensely regret this." he muttered to himself,

"Join the club," snorted Bones. "Like it or not this is your reality now. If the situation were any different, I'd simply fire the lot of you. However, I don't have much of a choice at the moment. Jackson has painted a pretty dire picture and we don't have much time to begin preparations."

"Preparations for what ma'am? What exactly are we going to be doing here?" asked Hestia, speaking up for the first time since she entered the room.

Bones addressed her, "Glad you asked, Jones, I'm going to be reassigning you to work the Sirius Black case. Jackson has informed me of the real situation but it provides us with an opportunity to mislead the ministry and whatever spies the Dark Lord has in our ranks. Jackson wants this team to begin compiling as much information on known and suspected Death Eaters as humanly possible. We want to know the who, what, when, and where. Addresses, businesses, known associates, the works. This task force we are putting together with the Americans will be the offensive force that, when ready, will shatter the structural integrity of the Dark Lord's return before it can truly begin."

"I've heard Percy mention the same thing in meetings before," said Tonks cautiously, still unsure about the entire situation, "But I still have no idea how we would even go about doing that."

"I had similar concerns," nodded Bones, "But when Percy explained his aims, I began to understand the process."

"Which is?" asked Shacklebolt,

"During their research into the Pureblood movements and the last war Jackson and his people made some interesting discoveries. The found out that You-Know-Who was actually a half-blood purporting himself to be a full pureblood. Percy plans on using this information, as well as the information we gather on current Death Eaters to start a counter revolution."

"A what?" asked Hestia, thoroughly confused,

Tonks nodded in agreement, "What she said, wouldn't it be easier to simply take out all of the known Death Eaters?"

Bones nodded in understanding, "To answer that question I have to explain some things first. I agree, arresting or outright killing the bad guys solves the immediate problem, but it is not a permanent solution. That's because Voldemort, to many pureblood families, represents something more than simple power and control, he is the manifestation of their lives and traditions. A promise that the lives they lead and the traditions they have upheld for centuries will not be called into question. We may kill or capture a thousand Death Eaters but at the end of the day it isn't going to mean anything because we won't have stopped the root of the problem. Too many old families both in country and across the globe look up to the Death Eater movements, and those that came before, as vindication for their own beliefs. Jackson's plan is to shatter those beliefs."

"How the hell are we going to do that?" Asked Tonks

Bones nodded in her direction, "When the Dark Lord returns, Jackson and his people are going to begin leaking rumors that the Dark Lord is not who he claims himself to be. They are to start spreading the rumor that the leader of the pureblood movement is no more than a half-blood."

"Ok…" said Hestia slowly, still not exactly understanding the plan, "Still not really seeing how that is going to change anything. Even if people believed it, it isn't as though Death Eaters are going to simply begin throwing down their wands. They won't believe it."

"I'm getting to it," said Bones impatiently, "This is where all of the information gathering comes into play. We begin targeting prominent Death Eaters within Voldemort's inner circle, we target supply chains, and important financial institutions for the structural foundation of the Death Eater Forces. And this is where the real plan lies. The ministry takes zero credit for the attacks, instead, the attacks are carried out by supposedly radicalized former Death Eaters who bought into the false rumors. When it becomes apparent that there are those within the Dark Lord's forces that genuinely bought into the rumors, it begins to give some potential credibility to the ideas that the ideological foundation for the Death Eaters is inherently flawed. The way Jackson explained it, if we can create a divide in the Death Eater forces, we can force the entire thing to collapse from the inside out."

"That's…diabolical…." whispered Hestia quietly, trying to come to terms with what she just heard,

Bones just nodded in understanding, "Leave it to the Americans to perfect the art of destabilization."

"I don't know," said Tonks, scratching the back of her head, "It's all kind of vague, I mean sure there is a pretty clear roadmap. A couple of stops and checkpoints we're trying to hit along the way, but it leaves a lot up to chance and there's nothing really clear about how we're going to do all of this."

"Honestly, that's why I think it would work," came Shacklebolt's quiet voice, and the room's occupants all turned to look at the man, "The best plans are the ones that are the most easily adaptable. This type of an operation, on the surface seems pretty straightforward. Turn the Death Eaters own ideology into a weapon against themselves, but because it's vague, if and when something goes wrong-because something always does-we can mold and adapt to it on the fly. I like everything about this except one thing."

"And that is?" asked Bones with a raised eyebrow, even though she already knew the answer,

"How do we deal with You-Know-Who? All of this is all well and good but if we can't kill the Dark Lord then this entire operation is over before it can even begin."

Bones nodded, she had voiced something similar to Percy, "He told me he was working on it. He was going to call a consultant on the dark arts to see if he can't dig up some way that Voldemort would have been able to survive the night Potter supposedly killed him."

That in and of itself was intriguing to Hestia, oddly enough, there hadn't been much research into how the Dark Lord had been defeated that Halloween night so long ago. Wizarding Britain had simply been too relieved that the war had been over that it had simply fallen to the wayside.

Bones' voice interrupted Hestia's musings, "I suppose all that's left now is to ensure that you all are on board with this."

"Shouldn't you have led with that?" asked Hestia, cocking an eyebrow.

Bones merely chuckled, "I suppose, but I wanted you lot to know what you were getting into before I made sure that you were on board. I know I made it sound earlier as though you didn't have a choice but believe me, this is all resting on your own willingness to be a part of this. Jackson asked me who I thought would be best suited to this sort of work which is why you three are here. You're already actively working against the Dark Lord and so I assumed that you would be willing to be more active participants but if I was wrong, now would be the time to tell me. You will face no penalty from me should you choose to walk away but I will require a vow of silence should you choose so. This is simply too important otherwise."

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation between the three of them. Shacklebolt, Hestia, and Tonks all agreed immediately. "Excellent," said Bones, clapping her hands together and reaching under the table to pull up a series of manila envelopes. "Inside these are files that Jackson and his people have put together on what they know so far. Familiarize yourselves with them, Jackson will be in the office tomorrow where we will introduce his official cover for the duration of his stay. Study up and get a good night's rest. The real work will begin in the morning."

 **AN: Apologies for the previous update, I went back and retconned a few things. I've revised some of my character notes to make Percy 24 not 20. These changes will make more sense in the next chapter which is almost done. Should have it up relatively soon. Sorry about the long wait but I think the next chapter is going to make a lot of that waiting well worth it, even if some of ya'll hate me for what I'm going to do. This is where things really begin to heat up. You guys get a good look at what I'm planning moving forward. I'm excited for it, I think its Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, thanks for all the love and support, I can't believe how far this story has come. It really means a lot to have so many people follow my stupid brain. Hope ya'll have a good night and see you soon.**

 **Love,**

 **LilDB**


	10. Meltdown

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

It was silent in the Black Family dueling chamber, Harry was unsure what to do, what to say. He been mentally preparing to hear this, ever since Percy had told him about the prophecy. But it was one thing to prepare for it, and another to hear the actual words. His knees gave out from under him and slid down to the floor, and his entire body began to shake. He numbly registered a couple of bodies slide down to sit next to him but he didn't pay any attention to it. Deep down he supposed that he had always known that it would come to this, either himself or Voldemort. He knew that he couldn't ever even contemplate having a normal life, having a family, with that monster gunning after him. But what was he supposed to do? He was only fifteen! Sure, he was pretty decent with a wand, and he'd been in his fair share of life-and-death struggles, but Voldemort had literally decades of experience on him. How in the hell was he supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort? He was going to die. There was nothing else to it. His entire life, all the pain, all the misery, all the loneliness, it had all led up to this moment of horrible realization that he was predetermined to die young. His body began to spasm uncontrollably and he placed his head in his hands as his vision began to blur with tears.

He barely even noticed the arm around his shoulders, or the hand gripping his like a vice. He couldn't see, he couldn't think, all he could hear was _"for neither can live while the other survives"_ over and over again in his mind. Then, like the flip of a switch, the sorrow and self-loathing disappeared, and was replaced with white hot rage. He had known. Dumbledore had known all along. He had known about this prophecy it had said so on the placard underneath the prophecy in the department of mysteries. "Prophecy regarding Harry James Potter and Tom Marvolo Riddle. Foresaw by S. Trelawney. Witnessed by A. Dumbledore." The bastard had known all along and he had let it happen anyways. He had known that Voldemort was going to come for him. Had known at least at the start of Harry's first year that he hadn't been dead and had done nothing, absolutely nothing to prepare Harry for the trials ahead!

Harry's body began to shake again, although now the shaking and the tears were not in sorrow or self-pity, but in justifiable rage. He roared in fury as his vision clouded and he leapt away from where he had collapsed. He pulled his wand free and fired spell after spell at the makeshift dummies in the chamber. He cast, and he cast, and he cast until he felt numb and exhausted and the basement was little more than ash, craters, and scorch marks. Harry collapsed to his knees taking in shuddering breaths as he attempted to get a hold of himself.

"You get it out of your system? Or do you need a few more minutes to feel sorry for yourself?" came a familiar voice. Harry's head snapped up and glared at Percy, leaning casually against a wall. How dare he? How dare this insolent peon mock him, belittle him, belittle his pain at what he had just learned! He would hurt this lowly muggle, would show him the true meaning of pain and torment, would illustrate even a modicum of suffering that Harry had spent his entire life experiencing. He raised his wand, a curse on his lips but before he could get the words out, the target of his newfound anger and hostility had disappeared and a searing pain shot through Harry's midsection. There was a shocked gasp, and a series of shouts from behind him but he tuned it out. Harry barely had time to register what had happened before his arm was snapped painfully to one side. Percy was in front of Harry, one fist buried in the fifteen-year old's stomach while the other held onto his wand arm. The hand holding Harry's arm twisted, and Harry gasped in pain as the wand dropped uselessly to the ground. The fist in Harry's stomach released and for a moment Harry could breathe again. However, that changed when the hand grabbed a fistful of Harry's sweaty shirt, and hoisted Harry into the air. Percy flipped the boy effortlessly over so that Harry was sprawled out on his back. White-hot pain seared through his back as the air was knocked clean out of his lungs. He barely managed to take in a raggedy breath before Percy's knee pressed painfully into his sternum.

"What the hell are you doing Jackson?" Came Sirius' outraged voice, Ron and Hermione voicing their own outrage at Percy's actions. Percy ignored them, and when Sirius and Ron took a few steps to try and dislodge Percy from Harry, Percy's icy glare stopped them in their tracks.

Opening bleary eyes, he fought through the pain to take in the rage on Percy's face. "I understand that you're angry. But understand that I am not your enemy Potter." Percy spat out, spittle landing on his chin that reminded Harry all too much of his Uncle. It did nothing to quell the fury still roiling through him.

"You stand there, all high and bloody fucking mighty, like you can even begin to understand what I'm feeling." Harry growled out, his voice raspy and wheezy, he was still finding it hard to breath and the knee in his stomach was only making it worse. "How could someone like you possibly understand what I'm going through right now?!"

Percy's eyes widened, and then narrowed, "Someone like me?" he ground out through clenched teeth. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like you yankee-bastard!" Harry snarled, "Mr. prefect, that's what you are. You've probably never struggled for anything in your entire life. Probably had parents that loved you and gave a shit. Never had people abandon you or betray you. You're strong, successful, good with people, how could someone like that possibly begin to understand what I'm going through! I hate you! I hate everything about you!"

Vindictive anger washed over the man's face, he looked like he wanted to hit Harry, but thought better of it. Instead, the large man closed his eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. When he composed himself, he stood up, and looked down on Harry with eyes far older, and far more tired than someone his age should have. "Ron, Hermione, leave. Now." The two looked like they were about to protest but Sirius ushered them out before they could say anything.

When the door closed and Sirius returned Percy spoke again. "For as far back as I can remember my step-father verbally and physically abused me and my mother. Mom did her best, tried to hide the bruises and the tears but I always knew. Then, when I was eleven, right when I thought things were starting to turn around, I had to watch as she was gored to death by a Minotaur." Harry's eyes, widened in shock and horror but Percy just continued. "When I was thirteen because of my carelessness and stupidity, a ten-year-old boy had to watch as his sister died fighting for her life. At fifteen I learned that my entire life was supposedly being dictated by a seventy-year old prophecy. I was told that in order to save the world, I had to die. And while it turned out that the prophecy was actually about someone else, I still spent an entire year preparing myself to die to save the world."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to block out the words he was hearing. It was just too much for him to take. But Percy just kept talking, and the words made their way through, "When I was seventeen, I fought in my second war in as many years and had to fight my way through literal hell and back. When I was eighteen the woman I loved was shot and killed in a mugging in San Francisco. Her death destroyed me and I nearly killed myself just so that I could be see her again. It took years and even to this day I still see her in my nightmares. And I'm always just a few seconds too slow."

"Stop!" Harry shouted, covering his ears and screwing his eyes shut. "Just stop already! Please, I don't want to hear any more!"

Percy stepped aside so that he was no longer towering over Harry, and knelt down so that he was next to the boy. "Harry," Percy said softly, "I didn't tell you all that to hurt you. Or to win 'who's life sucks more', you said I don't understand you, that there is no way that I can possibly empathize with what you're going through right now. Harry, I told you all of that to prove to you that right here, right now, there is no one else on this damn planet who understands exactly what you are going through more than I do. You're scared, terrified even. It feels as though your entire life has existed purely to be the Fate's personal bitch and the cherry on top is that you're going to die young and alone."

Harry had curled in on himself again, the truth of Percy's words crashing into him, Sirius step around Percy to sit down next to his godson, and began rubbing his back reassuringly. Percy continued to speak and reassure him, "I'm here to tell you Harry that you are not alone right now. That you are the furthest thing from alone. You have Sirius, Ron, Hermione, and everyone else upstairs right now who want nothing more than the utter best for you. I'm trying to tell you that you are loved and supported Harry. I know things feel hopeless right now, as though every time things start to get a little better life dunks you back into the toilet. But we are going to see you through this. I assure you; I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that not only do we beat this son of a bitch, but that you live a long, happy, and fulfilling life."

Harry had stopped shaking, and the sorrow had started to leave his eyes. He was sitting up, Sirius still rubbing his back reassuringly, "How did you do it? How did you wake up every morning with the weight of the world on your shoulders, thinking that you were destined to die?" Harry asked, still not looking up at Percy.

Percy chuckled sadly, "Because I had friends who were beating it into my head that I was going to live. They refused to even entertain the idea that I was going to die. I got my strength through theirs."

Harry just shook his head, "But I'm not strong enough, what can I possibly do? How can I possibly beat a man who is unkillable? I want to believe you Percy, really I do, what is there to do?"

Percy put both of his hands-on Harry's shoulders and forced the young man to look him in the eye. "Harry you have to fight through more adversity and tribulations than men four times your age have had to go through. You have had to fight against attacks on your life, your character, and your morality, and yet here you are. Still standing, and still fighting. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Listen to me Harry, it doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. When times are tough, I think back to the founding of my country and I think of one thing, that my nation was founded on one principle above all else: The requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world - "No, YOU move."

Harry simply looked at him for a long moment, then he slowly smiled, "You really believe that don't you?"

Percy smiled down at his young friend and gently pat him on the shoulder, "Course I do. I said it didn't I? So I just have one question for you, are you going to lie down, admit defeat and let the bad guys win? Or are you going to stand down, square your shoulders, and kick life square in the dick?"

Harry laughed, and reveled in the small feeling of hope the blossomed in his chest, looking over to see his godfather smiling at him, and the cheery and optimistic face of the man who had rapidly become one of his closest friends, Harry smiled. "I am."

"Good man!" said Percy clapping Harry on the shoulder, "Now get upstairs, it was starting to smell like dinner was close to being ready. Sirius and I will follow you in a minute. There are just a few things I need to talk to him about. Harry nodded before he stood up and smiled before giving his godfather a long hug and made his way up the stairs. Percy noted with a proud smile, that Harry had a bit more pep in his step.

When the door closed behind him Sirius spoke up, "Thank you for that." he said softly, "He was a wreck the entire way back. I was worried that he was going to completely shut down. You have a hell of a way with kids."

Percy just shrugged, "I was a camp counselor when I was a teenager. We had some really young kids at the camp so I had to adapt."

"Either way, thank you. I-I don't really know what I am to Harry, I love him like my own, but I never really wanted kids. This is all new to me. Especially under the circumstances."

Percy just put a reassuring hand on the older man's shoulder, "Don't overthink it. Just love him and support him as you have. That's all he wants, and that's all he needs."

Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, "Of course. Thanks mate, I needed to hear that. Now what did you want to talk about?"

Percy sighed and folded his arms, "I can't be the only one noticing that Harry has been acting…oddly lately. Mood swings are normal for a kid his age but, for a second there, he was about ready to actually kill me."

Sirius nodded and a grim look came over him, "I'm glad I'm not the only one. When he snapped, it was like something came over him. Like he was a totally different person."

"I take it this isn't normal behavior for him then?"

Sirius shook his head, "Granted I haven't been able to be around him as much as I wanted to be but I've never seen anything like that before. You've been around him a lot this summer, have you noticed something like this before?"

"I've seen him throw his homework across the room a few times, and he sometimes just exploded for no reason but I was just chalking it up to hormones and puberty." Percy said, before he contemplated for a minute. Then he asked something that had been on his mind for a while, "Has he ever had that scar on his head examined before? Like by a professional?"

"How do you mean?" Asked Sirius warily,

"I mean, have you ever had like a Curse-Breaker or someone take a close look at it? Cursed scars are rare but unheard of and I just get these bad vibes whenever I look at it. It could be nothing but we're dealing with a serious magical badass in Riddle. I don't want to leave anything to chance."

Sirius shrugged, "Well Bill is a Curse-Breaker, we could have him take a look at it. See if he also notices anything unusual."

Percy nodded, "Do that. By the way, I spoke with Amelia Bones today. She's in, and I think she's bringing in Tonks, Shacklebolt, and some woman named Hestia Jones. I'm all in for Tonks and Shacklebolt, I know they're good people but I've never met Jones. Know anything about her?"

Sirius just shrugged again, "Don't much about her. She's usually pretty quiet at meetings but she's young to be an auror which says a lot about her abilities. I know her older sister fairly well, she was pretty good with a wand and if Bones vouches for her, I'd say that she's solid."

Percy hummed and nodded, "Oh and I brought Amelia in on you. She said that she's going to quietly begin putting some things together to get you exonerated but it could take some time. But we're working on getting you acquitted."

Sirius' normally pale face seemed to glow in hope and happiness. "A-are you serious about that? I could be a free man?"

Percy smiled and placed a hand on the older man's arm. "That's right man. Soon enough you're gonna be free of this hellhole." Percy could jump in surprise as the fugitive wrapped him up in a large hug.

"Thank you." he whispered and Percy just patted him awkwardly on the back. There had been a lot of hugging today and he was getting uncomfortable. Finally, Sirius let him go and composed himself, coughing into his hand he gestured upstairs. "C'mon kid, let's go up, smells like Molly nearly has supper ready."

They began making their way up the stairs, "I'm going to have to pass tonight man," said Percy, "I've got a lot of stuff I have to go over. I've got a working dinner in my future."

Sirius snorted, "Probably for the best. Molly still isn't happy with the…well…everything you've been doing here honestly."

Percy just laughed and agreed. The woman had done nothing but glare at Percy since he revealed the prophecy to Harry. Saying goodbye to Sirius, Percy made some farewells to the others in the building before leaving the headquarters and getting into his car.

BREAK

Percy just sighed and laid his head down on the steering wheel. He hadn't gotten out of headquarters until rush-hour and now was stuck on the A20 during the busiest time of the day. "Gods above give me patience." he said to himself as he was finally at the head of the que. Finally making it past the logjam of cars he got into the exit lane to take him further away from London.

Blinking, Percy noticed the car in his rearview. He had noticed it pull in behind him as he was turning onto the A20 but had thought nothing of it. Percy was paranoid by nature, but something about the small green hatchback was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. If they really were tails, then they were spectacularly bad at tracking their mark. They had been directly behind Percy for nearly three miles, granted Percy hadn't been paying any attention due to the traffic but still, rule of thumb was always a three-car minimum on a tail. Then again, he had no way of knowing if these guys were actually following him, but a long career of dangerous living had made Percy very trusting of his gut instincts. When they said something was hinky, it probably was.

Without using his blinker, Percy suddenly changed lanes, looking back, he was disappointed but unsurprised that the green car jerked into the same lane. With a sigh Percy reached down to the console and grabbed his phone. Without looking down, Percy pulled up the contact list and punched in Caitlin number, it picked up after the second ring. "Hey Percy what's up?" Came Caitlin's sunny voice,

Normally, I'd be all for a little fun banter with the pretty woman, but now wasn't the time, "What kind of car's are in the British Ministry's fleet?" he asked without preamble.

There was a brief moment of quiet as Caitlin registered the tone of Percy's voice, "The British Ministry employs a fleet of twenty dark green Vauxhall Astra's. What's going on Percy?"

Taking another quick look into his rearview as Percy changed lanes, Percy saw the car follow him, as he passed a sign announcing a rest area Percy quickly formulated a plan, "Picked up a tail. Gonna need a cleanup crew at the rest area two klicks from the Surrey exit."

"…I assume that asking you to wait for backup is out of the question?" asked Caitlin, as heard her quickly packing up belongings on the other end.

"Probably," said Percy as he pulled off onto the exit for the rest stop and ended the call. He was pleased to notice that there was nobody else at the rest area. It would make this easier. Checking behind him line last time he saw the car pull in behind him. Steeling himself, Percy walked into the bathroom of the rest area. He relieved himself in a urinal, it had been a long trip after all, and turned on the faucet at the sink. He had just finished cleaning off his hands when the door opened. Two men and two women entered the first man was just over six foot, built strongly and with shortly cut red hair and a beard. Behind him was a slightly shorter man but no less muscular, he had dark black skin and the fluorescent lights seemed to reflect off of his bald head. A pair of women entered behind them, the first was short, barely over five-feet but was athletically built with wispy blonde hair. The final woman was of Indian descent, she was taller than the other woman but not by much and her long black hair was pulled into a braid that set on her back.

The entire time this was happening, Percy pretended not to notice, as though he were too preoccupied with washing his hands. Out of the corner of his vision however, he watched through the reflection as the Indian woman pulled out a wand and typed it against the door, which locked with a clunk. Knowing that was likely the cue to the others, Percy acted first.

Focusing his will on the stream of water coming out of the sink, the water suddenly changed directions, taking on the sharp shape of a spear, which impaled itself into the chest of the tall redheaded man. The burly man flew backward with yell of pain and collided with a closed bathroom stall. The stall door broke under the force of the impact and the man collapsed in heap of door, water and blood.

Ducking to his right, Percy rolled to the side just as the sink exploded. The black man had his wand pointing directly where Percy's back had been just moments before. In the midst of Percy's roll, he reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out his pistol, a Beretta M9 9mm, and leveled the sights on the man who just tried to blow him to pieces. Percy had enough time to squeeze the trigger twice before he was blown to the side, as another blasting curse exploded the ground next to him. The explosion sent Percy sprawling, his pistol blown from his grip and his back collided painfully with door to another stall. Getting to one knee, Percy shook his left hand clockwise and the watch on his wrist transformed into a large bronze shield. He had gotten the change up just in time as to conjured blades embedded themselves into the shield. Taking the time to peek around the shield, Percy saw that both of his shots on the second man had hit true, as he was bleeding from two bullet wounds in his sternum. The other two woman had conjured some kind of magical emplacement and were currently launching multi-colored spells at him from behind it. Percy wasn't worried, most magics were ineffective against demigods. But anymore conjured weapons could prove to be potentially hazardous to his continued existence.

Yanking the shield free, Percy threw it like a discus. While he knew the shield would do nothing to the mortal woman, Percy threw it anyway, knowing it would work well enough as a distraction. He wasted no time, the second the shield was free he was moving. Using the nearest sink as a springboard, Percy leveraged himself over the stone construct the two women had been fighting behind. While airborne, Percy maneuvered himself so that he would land behind the two women, while simultaneously willing a water construct into his hands. Focusing on the water, Percy froze it so that it took the form of a shiv.

As he landed, Percy tried to thrust the shiv into the stomach of the Indian woman, but she had recovered and dodged out of the way. Thrusting her arm forward the woman attempted to put her wand in Percy's side, but he used his free hand grab the hand and twisted it, spinning so that his back was facing the woman's, Percy snapped the wrist quickly, using his inhuman strength to shatter the bones. The woman howled in pain, but Percy didn't give her a chance to recover. Dropping his shiv construct, Percy used the now free hand to grasp over his shoulder so that he was holding onto the woman's jacket. He grabbed her the shoulder of the wrist he had just broken, while placing his right leg behind hers as an anchor point. Pulling up and over, Percy yanked the woman over his shoulder, and slammed her into the magical construct. There was a snap as her back broke over the barrier. The woman's mouth opened in a silent scream, before she fell over the other side.

Before he could shift his attention to the final target there was a burning pain in his side, just by his kidney, the blonde woman had picked up his discarded shiv and stabbed him with it. Kicking out with his right foot, Percy caught the woman square in the knee, dislocating it with a loud pop. Spinning around, Percy grabbed the smaller woman and pulled her forward so that she was eye-level with Percy. Focusing, Percy extended his will to eyes, and pulled on the mist. Forcing the woman to look at him, "Sleep." he commanded, and instantly, the woman's head lolled to the side as her eyes rolled up to the top of her head. Percy dropped the woman unceremoniously to the ground before grunting and clutching at his side in pain, the shiv was still stuck in his side. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Percy concentrated. Extending himself out to the shiv, he will it to melt into the wound itself. Percy hissed as the shiv did as he commanded, and he felt the skin around the wound begin to stitch itself back together.

A series of loud cracks from outside the building drew Percy's attention. While it could be Caitlin and the containment crew he'd requested, it could also be potential backup for whoever had sent the hit team. Vaulting over the construct and the bodies, Percy grabbed his lost pistol before situating himself in a covering position behind the door. Someone from outside attempted to pull on the door, but stopped when they saw it was locked, "Percy," came the familiar voice of Caitlin, "You in there?" she asked. sighing in relief, Percy lowered his weapon before holstering back in the waistband of his pants.

"I'm here, room's clear, come on in." he shouted back. There was a hum of magic being used, before there was click and the door to the rest area bathroom swung open. Behind Caitlin was Dempsey, his arms folded over his chest and a frown on his face as he peered over Caitlin into the carnage behind Percy.

"Jesus…can't leave you alone for ten minutes huh?"

Percy snorted but didn't reply, this was the second attempt on his life since coming to Britain. While it was possible that Voldemort was aware of his presence and worried enough to order hits on him, Percy wasn't convinced. Guy like Voldemort thought too lowly of everyone else, even if he did know about Percy, he wouldn't pay any attention to him until it was too late. No this seemed like something, and given that these three had been tailing him in what was likely a ministry vehicle…

Percy sighed; he had a feeling that Madam Bones was not going to be happy about this.

Or Freeman.

 **AN: And there we go! I can already see some of the comments about Harry and Percy being melodramatic and to that I say, the kid is 15. I remember when I was fifteen, and looking back on it, I was pretty melodramatic about everything. Am I projecting my own experiences on fictional characters? Probably but that's half the fun. Anyways, we have some shit starting to ramp up now, And I hope you guys are enjoying the ride as much as I am. I'll be trying to get to Hogwarts in the next couple of chapters here so that should be fun. Anyhoo, hope ya'll enjoyed yourselves and have a wonderful day. As always thanks for the love and support, and let me know what ya'll think.**

 **Love,**

 **LilDB**


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